^n 


BY  JAMES  O.  FAG 


^  tJl 


l'<!' 


u 


..\ 


THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


^p  3famc6  B.  jFapn 

THE    AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF     AN     INDIVID- 

UALIST. 

LABOR  AND  THE  RAILROADS. 

CONFESSIONS    OF    A    RAILROAD     SIGNAL- 

MAN.    Illustrated  with  photographs  of  typical 

wrecks. 

HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN   COMPANY 

Boston  and  New  York 

THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

OF  AN 

INDIVIDUALIST 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

OF  AN 

INDIVIDUALIST 


BY 

JAMES  O.  FAGAN 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

(jllje  iSitoerjrfiDe  J^rz0  CambriDjje 
1912 


COPYRIGHT,    1912,    BY  JAMES   O.    FAGAN 


ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 


rublishcd  November  iqi2 


215 


CONTENTS 

I.  Beginnings  in  Scotland 1 

II.   Life  Problems  in  South  America    ...    32 

III.  Travel  and  Adventures  in  Africa        .      .    63 

IV.  Impressions     of    New     England     in    the 

Eighties 96 

V.  Men  and  Conditions  on  the  Railroads  .      .128 

VI.  The  Individual  in  Modern  Industry    .      .  164 

VII.  A  Study  op  Three  Presidents  ....  195 

VIII.    The  Riddle  of  the  Railroads  ....  220 

IX.    Let  Industry  be  Free 255 

Index 285 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN 
INDIVIDUALIST 

I 

BEGINNINGS  IN  SCOTLAND 

In  the  United  States  to-day  the  individualist 
is  beset  with  adversaries  who  are  misrepresenting 
his  mission  and  behttling  his  importance.  Yet  his 
vital  relationship  to  the  highest  possibilities  and 
to  the  noblest  aspirations  of  the  race  is  unmistak- 
able. The  individual  is  the  personal,  that  is  to  say, 
the  principal,  factor  in  progress  of  every  descrip- 
tion. He  is  the  parent  of  ideas,  the  originator  of 
plans,  the  organizer  and  director  of  social  and 
industrial  enterprises.  He  dreams,  and  society 
wakes  up  and  finds  itself  famous.  True,  society 
reacts  on  the  individual,  inspires  multitudes  of 
individuals  to  praiseworthy  exertion  and  develop- 
ment, and  thus  the  commonwealth  flourishes. 

The  individualist  has  a  message  for  the  present 
generation.  While  a  large  and  influential  section 
of  public  opinion  at  the  present  day  is  persistently 
emphasizing  the  central  significance  of  the  social 
stream  and  the  comparative  helplessness  of  the 
human  bubbles  adrift  upon  its  surface,  perhaps 


2     AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF   AN   INDIVIDUALIST 

the  life-story  of  one  who  has  other  and  very  dif- 
ferent ideas  of  progressive  civilization  may,  at 
least,  be  thought  worthy  of  a  patient  hearing. 


Originally,  the  family  stock  of  the  writer  came 
from  the  Island  of  Skye,  one  of  those  desolate 
rock-ribbed  isles  of  the  Inner  Hebrides,  where 
even  to-day  the  greater  portion  of  the  Gaelic- 
speaking  inhabitants  are  crofters,  who  support 
themselves  on  fish,  and  inhabit  miserable  huts 
with  the  fireplace  in  the  middle  of  the  floor.  Con- 
tinually facing  starvation  and  the  fury  of  the  ele- 
ments, progress  with  these  people  is  almost  out  of 
the  question,  but  when  they  are  once  driven  by 
chance  or  compulsion  to  other  and  more  propi- 
tious climes,  the  rigor  of  such  primeval  training 
stands  the  sturdy  emigrant  in  good  stead,  and 
as  a  rule,  he  is  able  to  give  a  very  good  account  of 
himself. 

Wliile  this  glance  at  heredity  is  by  no  means 
out  of  place,  my  story  properly  begins  in  far-away 
India.  In  the  earliest  days  of  the  British  East 
India  Company,  in  the  buccaneering  and  filibus- 
tering period,  my  progenitors  emigrated  from 
Scotland  and  found  employment  in  the  Com- 
pany's civil  and  military  service.  A  number  of 
them  fell  victims  to  the  climate  and  the  wars; 
later,  one  of  my  uncles  was  a  physician  of  note  in 


BEGINNINGS   IN    SCOTLAND  3 

Calcutta;  another  was  on  the  bench;  while  two 
or  three  of  the  present  generation  are  out  there 
to-day,  engaged  in  commercial  pursuits. 

My  father  was  one  of  the  battle-scarred  sur- 
vivors of  the  Indian  Mutiny.  Until  his  death  he 
was  a  pensioner  of  the  East  India  Company  or  its 
successor,  the  British  Government.  Just  in  what 
year  he  returned  to  Scotland  I  am  unable  to  de- 
termine. I  have  no  available  dates  or  records  in 
regard  to  this  period  of  my  story;  but  this  is  of 
little  consequence,  as  my  purpose  is  neither  sta- 
tistical nor  genealogical. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  I  was  born  in  the  town  of 
Inverness,  Scotland,  in  the  year  1859,  and  shortly 
after  that  date  my  father  removed  his  establish- 
ment to  a  small  estate,  which  he  had  inherited 
from  a  relative,  in  the  neighboring  county  of  Ross. 
At  the  time  when  I  first  began  to  get  a  glimpse  of 
myself  and  my  surroundings,  the  family  consisted 
of  twelve  boys.  Then  my  mother  died  and  several 
of  the  older  boys  went  out  into  the  world,  one  into 
the  army,  one  into  the  navy,  and  two  into  the 
Indian  Civil  Service.  In  this  way,  at  the  time  I 
refer  to,  the  home-colony  in  Ross-shire  was  re- 
duced to  eight.  But  now,  and  very  briefly,  I  must 
locate  myself  more  definitely. 

My  home,  during  my  earliest  schooldays,  was 
quite  close  to  the  town  of  Fortrose,  which  is  a 
royal  and  parliamentary  borough  in  Scotland,  in 


4     AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF   AN   INDIVIDUALIST 

the  county  of  Ross.  The  little  town  is  situated 
on  the  north  side  of  the  Moray  Firth,  just  oppo- 
site Fort  George.  The  neighborhood  is  particu- 
larly rich  in  romantic  scenery,  and  the  nature  of 
my  beginnings  in  this  far-away  corner  of  the 
world  will  not  be  understood  in  its  proper  signifi- 
cance without  a  brief  glance  at  these  surroundings. 

The  very  first  information,  historically  speak- 
ing, that  is  imparted  to  a  Highland  youngster 
relates  to  Wallace  and  Bruce,  and  the  long  line  of 
fighting  Scotsmen  in  every  country  that  followed 
in  their  train.  To  him  every  tartan  —  in  fact, 
every  clan,  loch,  stream,  and  mountain  —  has  its 
fighting  history.  Every  boy  in  the  Highlands  lives 
in  the  midst  of  these  individualistic,  combative, 
and  romantic  associations.  On  a  clear  day,  from 
any  elevation  in  the  neighborhood  of  Fortrose, 
one  can  easily  overlook  the  hills  of  Inverness-shire. 
The  region  appears  to  be  densely  wooded  for  the 
most  part,  and  here,  in  the  possession  of  enormous 
estates,  live  to-day  the  lordly  descendants  of  the 
fighting  clansmen,  the  Camerons  of  Lochiel,  the 
Gordons  of  Cluny,  the  Frasers,  the  Mackintoshes, 
and  the  Chisholms. 

Just  one  other  feature  of  the  neighborhood 
remains  to  be  noticed.  A  little  to  the  east  of  Fort- 
rose  is  the  village  of  Rosemarkie.  At  the  back  of 
the  village,  and  running  in  and  along  great  gullies, 
which  I  suppose  have  been  washed  out  of  the  clay 


BEGINNINGS   IN    SCOTLAND  5 

or  sandstone  hills  by  the  torrents  of  centuries, 
is  a  succession  of  cliffs  or  precipices.  For  genera- 
tions these  crags  have  been  the  playground,  or 
rather  the  climbing  area,  of  the  Highland  lads 
from  surrounding  villages. 

These  features  of  the  scenery  are  in  the  main,  I 
think,  correct,  although  I  have  not  attempted  to 
verify  them  in  any  way,  and  I  have  never  re- 
visited the  scenes.  They  are  simply  vivid  impres- 
sions of  my  early  surroundings,  which  I  have  car- 
ried along  with  me  and  cherished  with  life-long 
tenacity;  and  I  am  obliged  to  emphasize  them  a 
little,  for  the  reason  that,  connected  with  this 
rugged  scenery,  there  was  later  a  tragic  episode 
which  proved  to  be  the  first  great  turning  point  in 
my  life. 

The  earliest  period  of  my  activity,  then,  in  the 
home,  the  surroundings  of  which  I  have  partially 
described,  may  be  fairly  entitled  the  wilderness 
stage.  In  regard  to  the  names  of  my  companions, 
my  manner  of  living  at  home,  or  conducting  my- 
self at  school,  say  up  to  my  tenth  year,  my  mind  is 
completely  in  the  dark.  The  pranks  and  adven- 
tures of  the  period  seem  to  have  driven  every- 
thing else  into  mental  oblivion.  I  cannot  even 
remember  to  what  extent  my  brothers  shared  in 
these  youthful  escapades,  which  so  exclusively 
dominate  these  earliest  memories.  I  am  convinced, 
however,  that  the  adventures  were  almost  invari- 


6     AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF   AN   INDIVIDUALIST 

ably  stolen  sweets,  unlawful  proceedings  in  which 
truancy  figured  not  a  little,  and  an  occasional  run- 
ning away  and  hiding  in  the  woods,  —  proceed- 
ings paid  for,  I  doubt  not  in  every  instance,  by  the 
infliction  of  corporal  punishment  and  incarcera- 
tion in  the  family  lockup. 

While,  of  course,  it  is  undesirable  to  relate 
any  of  these  childhood  adventures  in  detail,  the 
individualism  and  self-assertion  contained  in  this 
state  of  gypsy-like  lawlessness  must  be  noticed 
in  passing.  A  single  illustration  will  be  sufficient 
to  picture  the  situation. 

It  has  always  been  a  mystery  to  me  why  I 
should  so  easily  recall  incidents  relating  to  the 
dogs  and  horses,  and  my  adventures  in  their  com- 
pany. For  instance,  about  dogs:  there  was 
Pinky,  the  Skye  terrier.  Rock,  the  Gordon  setter, 
and  Jack,  the  retriever.  The  latter  was  the  delight 
and  pride  of  every  boy  in  the  neighborhood.  His 
cleverness  in  catching  wounded  rabbits,  or  in 
finding  lost  articles  that  belonged  to  any  of  the 
boys,  was  to  our  understanding  almost  super- 
natural. 

When  I  first  remember  him,  Jack  was  growing 
old,  and  getting  a  little  blind.  One  day  we  heard  a 
rumor  that  his  days  were  numbered  and  that  the 
gamekeeper  had  received  orders  to  put  him 
quietly  out  of  the  way.  So  one  morning,  when 
we  surprised  this  man  preparing  to  take  him  out 


BEGINNINGS   IN   SCOTLAND  7 

in  a  boat,  we  knew  his  time  was  come.  How  we 
pleaded  —  in  vain,  of  course  —  for  the  life  of  that 
dog!  Then  we  surrounded  and  jostled  and  fairly 
mobbed  the  gamekeeper.  In  the  end  he  was  com- 
pelled to  beat  us  back  from  the  boat,  and  we  sat 
in  a  row  on  the  beach  crying  and  biting  our  lips. 
The  man  rowed  out  a  short  distance  from  the 
shore,  then  shipped  his  oars.  We  saw  our  hero  go 
overboard  —  first  the  dog,  then  the  rope,  and 
then  the  rock.  We  never  forgave  that  man. 
From  that  time  on  he  was  continually  in  hot 
water  with  one  or  another  of  us.  Before  many 
days,  in  our  own  way,  we  paid  him  back.  It  was 
at  a  time  when  the  whole  village  was  off  its  guard, 
given  up  to  jollification  on  Halloween.  Two  or 
three  of  us,  little  imps,  barred  the  door  of  his  cot- 
tage on  the  outside,  climbed  up  on  the  roof,  and 
dropped  a  large  green  sod  down  through  the 
chimney  right  into  the  midst  of  the  family  circle. 
The  thrashing  we  received  for  this  escapade  must 
have  been  part  of  the  pleasure,  for  it  never  both- 
ered our  memories. 

n 

If  my  recollection  of  my  adventures  is  even 
partially  reliable,  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  a 
more  lawless  and  harum-scarum  beginning  to  the 
career  of  any  mortal.  But,  doubtless,  during  this 
early  period  there  were  already  two  sides  to  the 


8        AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

problem  of  my  bringing-up,  although  at  this  dis- 
tance I  find  it  difficult  to  reconcile  the  two  parallel 
and  contemporaneous  lines.  Nevertheless,  I  am 
well  aware,  from  what  I  was  able  to  learn  after- 
wards, that  even  at  the  time  that  I  was  seemingly 
running  wild  in  the  earliest  mad-cap  stage,  I  was 
really  being  drilled  and  whipped  into  civilized 
form  by  other  and  sterner  forces,  and  in  due  time 
the  fruits  of  this  training  were  abundantly  in 
evidence. 

But,  even  at  its  best,  the  domestic  situation  in 
which  I  was  placed  is  little  understood  by  Ameri- 
cans of  the  present  generation.  A  certain  aloof- 
ness between  parents  and  children  in  most  well- 
regulated  families  in  those  days  was  considered 
necessary  for  purposes  of  decorum  and  discipline. 
In  this  way  servants  and  relatives  to  a  great  ex- 
tent had  charge  of  our  family,  although  my  father 
kept  careful  watch  of  the  proceedings.  There  were 
morning  and  evening  prayers,  grace  was  said 
before  and  after  each  meal,  although  our  parents 
never  sat  at  the  same  table  with  the  small  boys, 
and  there  was  the  strictest  observance  of  the 
Sabbath. 

Whatever  may  have  been  his  desires  on  the 
subject,  my  father  certainly  found  it  impossible 
to  attend  to  us  all  personally  while  we  were  in  the 
barefoot,  runabout  stage,  but  he  made  up  for  it 
when  we  grew  old  enough  to  appreciate  his  ad- 


BEGINNINGS  IN  SCOTLAND  9 

ministration.  It  is  in  this  light,  and  during  this 
later  period,  that  I  chiefly  remember  him. 

Thus,  as  briefly  as  possible,  I  have  tried  to 
draw  upon  my  memory  for  a  picture  of  a  youth 
in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland  in  what  to  me  are  the 
olden  times,  struggling,  unconsciously  of  course, 
with  his  environment  and  heredity.  True,  the 
process  was  under  cover,  but  the  two  lines  of 
effort  and  advance,  even  then,  were  clearly  de- 
fined. The  one  was  overflowing,  disorganized, 
boisterous,  and  natural.  The  other  was  artificial, 
organized,  and  moral.  On  the  one  hand,  there 
was  heredity,  the  aboriginal  activity  and  yearn- 
ing of  a  hunting  and  fighting  disposition,  craving 
for  expression;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  there  was 
the  environment  of  a  determined  and  methodical 
plan  on  the  part  of  a  schoolmaster,  a  minister,  and 
home  influences,  to  turn  these  half-savage  propen- 
sities into  civilized  channels. 

Personality,  it  must  be  remembered,  as  a  con- 
scious factor,  was  still  in  the  embryo  state,  biding 
its  time.  Then,  of  a  sudden,  just  at  this  stage  of 
development,  the  forces  engaged  met  in  a  sort  of 
catastrophe  and,  in  a  single  day,  I  became  a 
conscious  and  soulful  personality. 

It  happened  in  this  way,  in  my  eleventh  year. 
Between  brothers  in  our  family  there  was  no  such 
thing  as  constant  comradeship.  Occasionally  we 
would  play  together  in  pairs  or  otherwise,  but 


10      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

unless  we  happened  to  join  forces  in  some  com- 
mon cause,  we  were  usually  in  a  state  of  chronic 
rivalry.  Plots  and  counterplots  were  always  under 
way.  Encounters  of  every  description,  for  the 
most  part  manly  and  short-lived  affairs,  were  the 
order  of  the  day.  But  we  all  seemed  to  have 
chums  in  the  village  in  whose  company  most  of 
the  play-time  was  spent. 

My  particular  companion  was  a  little  lad  about 
my  own  age,  the  son  of  the  village  miller,  whose 
mill  was  a  short  distance  outside  the  village  on 
the  edge  of  a  noted  rabbit-warren  called  "The 
Dens."  Alec  was  even  a  more  inveterate  poacher 
than  I,  and  nearly  as  good  a  crag-climber.  The 
alliance  between  us  was  offensive  and  defensive 
in  every  particular.  We  were  inseparable.  When- 
ever I  went  astray,  and  was  wanted  for  anything, 
I  was  always  to  be  found  in  the  vicinity  of  this  mill. 

In  front  of  the  building  and,  if  I  am  not  mis- 
taken, rising  sheer  from  the  roadway  in  front  of  it, 
the  crags  spread  out  to  right  and  left.  The  bald 
surface  of  these  perpendicular  sheets  of  clay  was 
divided  at  intervals  by  crevices  or  ravines  running 
vertically  from  top  to  bottom.  Here  and  there  on 
the  face  of  these  parapets  there  were  a  number  of 
ledges,  perhaps  twenty  or  thirty  feet  long,  run- 
ning horizontally  across  the  surface.  In  nearly  all 
of  these  ledges  there  were  deep  holes,  burrowed  by 
the  rabbits.    They  were  the  breeding-places  of 


BEGINNINGS  IN  SCOTLAND  11 

the  rabbits  and  of  numerous  jackdaws,  the  natu- 
ral prey  of  the  village  boys.  One  ledge  or  shelf  in 
particular  was  the  despair  of  every  boy  in  the  vil- 
lage. It  was  simply  inaccessible.  It  seemed  as  if 
every  rabbit  we  chased  out  of  the  "  Dens,"  under- 
standing this  fact  and  mocking  us,  invariably  ran 
across  the  face  of  the  cliff  and  took  refuge  on  that 
shelf. 

One  day  Alec  and  I  determined  to  scale  that 
crag  or  break  our  necks  in  the  attempt.  We  must 
have  deliberately  and  carefully  planned  the  expe- 
dition in  advance.  We  started  from  the  mill  one 
morning  just  before  dawn.  We  provided  ourselves 
with  knives  and  a  stout  rope.  Without  much  diffi- 
culty we  scrambled  up  one  of  the  ravines  that 
divided  the  cliff  into  sections.  When  the  sun  rose 
we  were  probably  two  hundred  feet  from  the  base 
of  the  cliff,  and  horizontally  on  a  level  with  the 
coveted  ledge.  To  reach  it,  however,  it  was  neces- 
sary to  cut  a  firm  pathway,  inch  by  inch,  with  our 
knives,  for  a  distance  of  fifty  feet  across  an  almost 
perpendicular  parapet.  As  a  guide  to  our  work 
there  was  already  a  faint  trackway  made  by  the 
rabbits.  Along  this  line,  footstep  after  footstep, 
we  dug  our  perilous  way,  until  about  half  the  dis- 
tance was  covered  in  safety.  I  was  three  or  four 
yards  ahead  of  my  companion.  Then,  suddenly, 
like  a  flash.  Alec's  foothold  gave  way  and  down 
he  went.   In  falling  he  shouted  my  name. 


12      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

There  is  no  necessity  to  draw  on  my  imagination 
to  picture  my  predicament  or  to  describe  my 
state  of  mind.  I  am  there  again  this  minute.  For 
a  second  or  two  I  was  rigid  with  a  sort  of  terror. 
To  turn  back  was  impossible,  and  I  could  not  look 
down.  I  simply  drove  my  knife  up  to  the  hilt  in 
the  crag  and  held  on.  Then,  after  an  unnoticed 
interval,  the  sound  of  shouts  from  below  came  up 
to  me.  They  seemed  to  wake  me  out  of  my  trance. 

Meanwhile,  in  some  unaccountable  way,  de- 
termination had  taken  the  place  of  fear.  I  have 
always  looked  back  upon  these  moments  as  the 
time  when  my  personality  first  emerged  into  real 
consciousness.  I  whispered  to  myself  one  word  — 
"Courage."  Then  I  went  on  with  my  work, 
cutting  out  the  path  to  the  ledge.  It  was  a  me- 
chanical process  —  I  did  n't  seem  to  know  or 
realize  what  I  was  doing.  I  reached  the  goal  and 
returned  by  the  way  I  had  come. 

At  the  foot  of  the  hill  a  crowd  was  awaiting  me. 
I  did  n't  ask  any  questions.  I  knew  from  the 
silence  that  Alec  was  dead.  Half  the  village  ac- 
companied me  to  my  home.  My  father  was  away. 
I  was  locked  in  the  cellar  for  safe-keeping. 
Toward  evening,  to  my  surprise,  I  was  liberated 
and  given  a  good  meal.  For  several  days  I  was 
in  disgrace,  or  thought  I  was.  Then  the  village 
authorities  came  and  asked  me  some  questions. 

Finally  my  father  returned.    I  was  surprised 


BEGINNINGS  IN  SCOTLAND  13 

that  he  seemed  to  avoid  me.  I  knew  something 
was  brewing.  Then  one  morning  I  was  told  to 
get  ready  to  go  to  Inverness  with  him.  Generally 
speaking,  the  trip  was  looked  upon  by  any  of  us 
as  a  treat.  On  this  occasion,  however,  I  did  n't 
flatter  myself  in  this  way.  Then  came  another 
surprise.  The  trip  was  postponed  on  account  of 
the  weather,  and  I  was  told  to  present  myself  at 
once  in  the  library. 

I  had  no  sooner  entered  the  room  than  my 
father  sent  me  to  a  storeroom  for  a  trunk  full  of 
letters  and  documents.  I  at  once  noticed  a  change 
in  his  manner  and  method  of  addressing  me. 
There  was  a  sort  of  companionship  indicated  in 
his  words  and  actions  to  which  I  was  totally 
unaccustomed.  I  wondered  what  was  going  to 
happen.  He  said  he  was  sorry  about  the  accident, 
and  especially  for  Alec.  He  was  walking  up  and 
down  the  room.  I  looked  up  and  saw  that  his  lips 
were  quivering  with  emotion.  That  was  enough 
for  me.  I  did  n't  utter  a  sound,  but  I  gripped  my- 
self all  over,  while  the  tears  poured  from  my  eyes 
in  streams.  However,  there  was  no  use  trying  to 
put  old  heads  on  young  shoulders,  he  continued, 
and  besides,  after  all,  perhaps  I  was  only  a  chip 
of  the  old  block.  In  fact,  a  little  stronger  than 
some  of  the  other  chips,  he  hoped.  There  had 
always  been  too  much  abortive  effort  in  the 
family.  I,  at  least,  had  done  what  I  set  out  to  do. 


U      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

Of  all  things  he  hated  abortive  effort.  I  could 
hardly  believe  my  senses.  As  I  listened,  every 
minute  he  was  speaking  added  a  year  to  my  life. 

My  father  knew  I  was  collecting  postage 
stamps  and  "  crests."  He  went  on  to  tell  me  that 
he  was  going  to  burn  up  a  lot  of  family  records 
and  letters.  He  wished  me  to  read  a  little  about 
the  family  history  they  contained,  and,  inciden- 
tally, I  could  help  myself  to  the  stamps.  He  gave 
me  a  hint  or  two  in  regard  to  his  reasons  for  de- 
stroying these  letters.  There  were  financial  trou- 
bles on  the  horizon.  Some  kind  of  family  quarrel 
and  possibly  a  lawsuit.  We  could  read  the  letters 
together,  and  he  would  determine  as  we  went 
along  which  to  preserve  and  which  to  throw  into 
the  open  fireplace  before  which  we  were  seated. 

The  letters  contained  family  history  of  a  varied 
description,  chiefly  from  India.  The  health  of  this 
one,  the  promotion  of  another  in  the  Service,  the 
expedition  of  another  on  a  diplomatic  mission  to 
the  Afghans,  the  sickness  and  death  of  a  brother 
at  Aden,  returning  home  on  sick-leave — such 
were  some  of  the  topics. 

I  was  so  keyed  up  at  the  time  that  scarcely  an 
incident  in  these  letters  has  escaped  my  memory. 
Especially  impressive  to  me  in  many  of  the  letters 
were  the  stories  of  financial  disaster,  and  the  piti- 
ful forebodings  of  kinsmen  who  had  lost  their  all 
in  the  wreck  of  the  Agra  bank. 


BEGINNINGS  IN  SCOTLAND  15 

Thus  the  day  passed  away  and,  with  intervals 
for  meals,  my  letter-burning  occupation  was  con- 
tinued until  late  into  the  evening.  But  there  was 
another  incident  connected  with  the  occasion  that 
made  quite  an  impression  upon  me  at  the  time. 
When  the  servant  brought  in  the  lights,  my  father 
ordered  some  "toddy."  He  compelled  me  to 
drink  a  small  quantity.  He  thought  it  might 
assist  me  in  going  to  sleep,  but  he  made  it  the 
occasion  to  tell  me  something  about  whiskey.  Al- 
though, generally  speaking,  it  was  something  to 
be  avoided,  on  the  other  hand,  it  was  nothing  to 
be  afraid  of.  He  mentioned  one  or  two  unsatis- 
factory illustrations  in  the  history  of  the  family 
as  a  warning  against  its  abuse.  He  thought  it 
well  for  me  to  understand  something  about  it  at 
an  early  age.  "  If  you  take  a  dislike  to  it,"  he 
said,  "you  will  do  well.  At  any  rate,  govern 
yourself  thoughtfully  in  the  matter."  Then  I 
went  to  bed  in  a  tumult  of  mental  bewilder- 
ment. 

Psychologically  speaking  this  is  the  end  of  the 
personally  unconscious  period.  The  next  stage 
relates  to  school-life,  to  intellectual  development, 
and  especially  to  religious  foundations. 

m 

There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  boys,  as  well  as 
in  those  of  men,  that,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads 


16      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

on  to  fortune.  This  is  usually  the  period  when 
the  boy,  awakening  to  a  consciousness  of  his 
own  personality,  determines,  it  matters  not  how 
feebly  at  first,  to  think  and  act  for  himself. 

In  my  own  case,  self-assertion,  on  a  small  scale, 
of  course,  began  almost  immediately  after  the 
death  of  my  companion  Alec.  I  can  only  attribute 
my  somewhat  premature  development  in  this 
respect  to  the  mental  shock  which  I  received  upon 
that  occasion,  and  there  was  one  feature  about 
this  sudden  development  which  seems  to  me  to 
be  worth  mentioning.  This  was  the  abnormal 
sensitiveness  that  ensued.  Mental  impressions 
of  all  kinds  were  very  acute,  and  at  times  almost 
painful.  I  remember  how  careful  I  was  not  to 
offend  any  one,  or  to  hurt  the  feelings  of  any  one 
in  any  way.  This  led  to  a  natural  desire  on  my 
part  to  do  my  best  in  order  to  secure  the  good 
opinion  of  people. 

But  this  feature  was  only  incidental;  my  real 
purpose  was  to  be  better  and  stronger  than  my 
companions  in  whatever  sphere  I  might  happen 
to  meet  them.  After  all,  this  was  only  a  very  natu- 
ral desire  and  a  simple  development  of  the  life  I 
had  been  leading;  but  that  the  consciousness 
of  will-power  should  actually  add  to  the  strength 
of  my  muscles  was  a  revelation  to  me  at  the  time 
and  was  illustrated  one  day  in  a  very  emphatic 
manner. 


BEGINNINGS  IN  SCOTLAND  17 

A  number  of  boys  were  playing  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  blacksmith's  shop.  Lifting  weights  was  one 
of  our  customary  pastimes.  The  biggest  boy  in 
the  company  was  one  of  my  brothers  who  was 
two  or  three  years  my  senior.  Incidentally,  he 
took  hold  of  a  small  anvil,  but  failed  to  move  it. 
Thereupon  I  lifted  it  from  the  ground  with  appar- 
ent ease.  The  boys  shouted,  and  the  blacksmith 
came  out  and  challenged  me  to  do  it  again.  I  did 
so.  But  the  peculiar  part  of  this  illustration  is  that 
I  distinctly  remember  half  chuckling  to  myself 
and  saying,  "I  have  a  secret." 

This  kind  of  self-consciousness  affected  my 
behavior  in  a  marked  degree.  I  became  quiet  in 
my  manner  and  studious  in  my  habits.  What 
may  be  called  the  dawn  of  purpose  in  my  behavior 
led  naturally  to  a  good  deal  of  concentration, 
and,  at  this  psychological  moment,  the  Free  Kirk 
minister,  Mr.  Brown,  took  hold  of  me. 

To  try  to  explain  what  religion  meant  to  such 
an  impressionist  as  I  was,  at  that  early  age,  would 
be  a  useless  proceeding.  I  think,  however,  the 
religion  of  the  Free  Church  was  thoroughly  in 
harmony  with  my  mental  level  at  the  time.  For 
one  thing,  it  introduced  me  to  the  Bible,  but  of 
this  book  and  its  influence  I  shall  have  more  to 
say  at  a  later  stage  of  my  story.  At  any  rate,  Mr. 
Brown  instilled  into  me  the  principles  of  ortho- 
doxy, and  of  the  Bible  as  the  great  human  guide. 


18      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

in  the  same  way  that  McTavish,  the  school- 
master, was  pounding  into  me  the  construction 
of  hexameters  in  Latin  verse,  and  the  value  of  x 
in  algebra.  The  following  story  will  give  an  idea 
of  my  religious  condition  at  this  time,  and  of  the 
change  from  my  former  childlike  indifference  in 
such  matters. 

One  day,  very  thoughtlessly,  I  took  aim  with 
a  stone  and  killed  a  sparrow.  I  can  never  forget 
the  religious  turmoil  the  act  excited  in  my  mind. 
The  situation,  I  am  afraid,  does  not  admit  of  in- 
terpretation, still  less  of  appreciation,  at  the 
present  day.  I  took  refuge  in  prayer,  —  a  pro- 
cess whose  spiritual  aim  and  practical  end  is 
discipline. 

But  the  most  noticeable  phase  of  this  early 
religious  training  was  the  strange  secrecy  that  was 
maintained  on  all  sides  in  regard  to  moral  prob- 
lems from  a  practical  point  of  view.  I  speak  of  the 
sermonizing  on  the  subject.  "Lead  us  not  into 
temptation,"  was  interpreted  in  its  widest  signi- 
ficance. I  was  terribly  impressed  with  wickedness 
in  the  abstract.  Ignorance  and  innocence  were 
supposed  to  be  the  safest  route  to  salvation.  One 
day  coming  across  the  expression,  "The  Scarlet 
Woman,"  I  asked  Mr.  Brown  to  explain  it  to  me. 
I  remember  his  answer:  "My  boy,  at  your  age 
curiosity  will  do  you  a  great  deal  more  harm 
than  enlightenment  will   do   you  good.    Study 


BEGINNINGS  IN  SCOTLAND  19 

the  'Paradise  Lost'  and  beware  of  the  popular 
craving  for  the  novels  of  Dickens." 

This,  then,  was  the  religious  atmosphere  in 
which  I  was  being  educated.  Its  central  tenet 
was  the  necessity  for  an  absolute  ignorance  of  the 
world  and  its  dangers  from  the  practical  point  of 
view,  in  combination  with  religious  safeguards 
that  were  depended  upon  to  act  instinctively 
in  times  of  temptation  and  danger.  It  has  been 
necessary  for  me  to  dwell  on  this  religious  situa- 
tion at  the  time  when  my  personality  was  begin- 
ning to  assert  itself,  in  order  that  the  practical 
tests  of  the  system  which  came  later  may  be 
thoroughly  understood.  It  was  in  this  supersen- 
sitive condition,  therefore,  that  my  final  studies 
in  my  twelfth  year  in  the  academy  in  Fortrose 
were  continued. 

The  sudden  change  in  my  habits  and  general 
deportment  was  immediately  noticed  by  my 
father  and  by  McTavish,  the  schoolmaster.  The 
former  took  many  opportunities  to  favor  and  en- 
courage me.  The  schoolmaster  also,  taking  his 
cue  from  my  father,  took  considerable  pride  in 
the  progress  I  was  making  in  my  studies.  This 
schoolmaster  was  first  of  all  and  principally  an 
educational  machine,  but  considering  the  material 
and  the  difficulties  he  had  to  contend  with,  some 
sixty  or  seventy  boys  and  girls  of  various  ages  in  a 
single  room,  under  his  exclusive  direction,  he  was 


20      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

probably  the  right  kind  of  man  in  the  right  place. 
At  no  time  during  my  pupilage  under  him,  how- 
ever, did  this  man  have  any  intellectual  or  moral 
attraction  for  me.  He  possessed  a  method,  and 
that  was  all.  In  my  mind's  eye  I  can  see  him  now 
standing  on  the  platform  at  the  end  of  the  school- 
room, slightly  to  one  side  of  an  enormous  black- 
board, a  long  lance-like  pointer  in  one  hand,  and 
the  ever-present  "taw^s"  swinging  significantly 
in  the  other.  He  brings  the  pointer  down  sharply 
on  the  floor  and  says,  "Attention."  Then  he 
scribbles  off  a  problem  of  some  kind  on  the  board, 
takes  a  step  forward  and  says,  "One,  two,  three, 
off!"  At  once  there  is  a  rattle  and  squeaking  of 
slate  pencils,  and  after  an  interval  some  one 
brings  his  slate  down  on  his  desk  with  a  slam  and 
shouts,  "First."  Others  follow  in  rotation  as  fast 
as  their  tasks  are  completed.  INIeanwhile,  Mc- 
Tavish  is  in  the  body  of  the  hall,  scrutinizing  the 
answers  and  admonishing  the  slow  ones.  In  all 
probability  he  pounces  upon  a  "dunce,"  takes 
him  by  the  ear  and  deposits  him  silently  in  the 
corner  of  the  room  with  his  face  to  the  wall. 
Occasionally,  however,  in  a  magnanimous  mood, 
he  returns  to  the  platform  empty-handed  and 
explains  the  difficulties  in  the  problem  in  the  most 
sympathetic  manner.  Once  in  a  while  in  his  re- 
marks to  the  pupils  he  lapses  into  the  brogue  of 
the  neighborhood.   On  one  occasion  I  happen  to 


BEGINNINGS  IN  SCOTLAND  21 

shout  "First,"  at  the  top  of  my  voice.  "  Jeames, 
my  boy,"  he  repHes,  "dinna  shoot;  when  ye 're  no 
first,  I'll  be  making  a  note  of  it." 

But  perhaps  the  most  exceptional  feature  of 
this  schoolmaster's  administration  was  his  quar- 
terly "repoorts,"  as  they  were  called.  They  were 
delivered  in  person.  As  a  rule,  he  borrowed  a 
pony  for  the  purpose.  He  usually  set  out  on  a 
Wednesday  afternoon  and  took  in  a  circuit  of 
seven  or  eight  miles.  At  every  house  which  he 
entered  for  the  purpose  of  reporting  the  progress 
of  the  children,  he  was  invariably  refreshed  with  a 
good  drink  of  whiskey;  the  consequence  was  that, 
by  the  time  he  was  headed  for  home,  the  pony  was 
thoroughly  worked  up.  On  the  home-stretch  we 
boys  were  agreed  that  there  was  no  one  like  our 
schoolmaster  for  getting  a  Tam  o'  Shanter-like 
gallop  out  of  that  pony. 

However,  in  regard  to  my  own  progress,  I 
probably  studied  hard  because  I  was  compelled 
to.  Thanks  to  McTavish,  his  methods,  and  his 
"taws,"  there  was  no  doubt  about  my  proficiency 
in  the  "Three  R's."  In  regard  to  these  funda- 
mentals McTavish  was  a  tyrant.  Neither  the 
Laird's  first-born,  nor  the  poorest  lad  in  the  vil- 
lage, could  escape  this  initial  drilling.  And  by  the 
way,  the  number  of  books  that  were  carried  to 
and  fro  was  one  of  the  astonishing  features  of 
our  school-life.  Morning  and  evening  the  country 


22      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

roads  were  dotted  with  boys  and  girls  carrying 
piles  of  books  certainly  two  feet  deep  at  times, 
securely  strapped  between  boards  and  slung  over 
stout  little  shoulders.  The  girls  usually  managed 
to  saddle  themselves  with  the  heaviest  burdens, 
and  the  most  desperate  fight  I  ever  engaged  in 
was  for  the  privilege  of  carrying  one  of  these 
ponderous  libraries. 

Such,  then,  in  brief,  was  my  intellectual  and 
religious  condition  when  I  left  this  village  school 
and  was  sent  to  a  grammar  school  in  Manchester, 
England,  to  continue  my  studies.  There  were 
eight  or  nine  hundred  boys  in  this  school,  and  I 
was  admitted  to  it  on  what  was  called  the  "foun- 
dation." There  was  a  batch  of  twenty  of  us  who 
were  successful  in  this  way,  winnowed  out  of  a 
couple  of  hundred  aspirants.  When  I  left  the 
school  I  was  in  the  fifth  "form."  The  master's 
name  was  Styles,  and  his  methods  and  personality 
were  typical  of  the  whole  school.  Our  class  of 
thirty  boys  was  divided  into  sections.  Each  sec- 
tion had  its  overseer  —  one  of  ourselves  —  and, 
in  this  way,  the  master  kept  in  touch  with  every 
unit  in  the  class. 

Religious  instruction  was  part  of  the  curricu- 
lum, and,  during  an  attendance  of  a  little  over 
three  years  at  this  grammar  school,  my  religious 
ideas  were  enlarged  considerably  and  my  convic- 
tions deepened.  This  was  also  by  far  the  hardest 


BEGINNINGS  IN  SCOTLAND  23 

study-period  of  my  life,  and  my  book-knowledge 
was  extended  over  a  wide  range  of  subjects,  I 
was  also  an  inveterate  football  and  cricket  player, 
but  my  studies  took  precedence  over  everything. 
The  concentration  of  mind,  brought  about  by 
continuous  study,  resulted  in  a  mental  condition 
that  was  altogether  too  morbid  and  introspective, 
and  but  for  the  timely  intervention  and  advice 
of  Mr.  Styles,  serious  mental  results  would  have 
followed.  I  had  only  one  or  two  companions  whom 
I  cared  anything  about,  and  they  were  nearly  as 
studious  as  myself.  I  did  not  get  into  scrapes  of 
any  kind,  and  I  remember  Mr.  Styles  saying  to 
me  one  day  that  he  thought  if  I  broke  loose  once 
in  a  while  it  would  widen  my  horizon  a  little.  How- 
ever, he  went  right  to  work  on  my  case  in  his  usual 
practical  manner:  he  insisted  on  daily  exercise 
and  play,  he  took  me  to  the  theatre  (I  had  never 
been  in  my  life  before),  and  during  the  following 
holiday  season  I  went  with  him  to  visit  some 
friends  near  London ;  incidentally  he  gave  me  a 
vivid  introduction  to  some  of  the  scenes  and 
problems  of  a  great  city. 

There  is  just  one  final  feature  of  my  training 
in  this  grammar  school  which  I  think  it  will  be 
well  to  mention.  This  has  reference  to  the  class 
spirit  that  was  instilled  into  the  boys  with  such 
sincerity  and  force  that  it  was  actually  a  normal 
condition,  both  in  field-sports  and  in  studies,  and 


24      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

any  deviation  from  it  was  always  roundly  de- 
nounced by  the  boys  themselves.  This  phase  of 
my  school-life  had  a  striking  illustration  during 
the  class  examinations,  just  before  my  departure 
from  the  school. 

I  was  particularly  anxious  to  head  the  class  list 
on  this  occasion,  and  as  I  was  in  what  was  called  a 
classical  "form,"  or  class,  at  the  time,  the  princi- 
pal tests  were  in  our  knowledge  of  Latin  and 
Greek.  There  were  thirty-odd  boys  in  the  form; 
the  room  just  accommodated  us  comfortably, 
each  boy  being  seated  at  his  individual  desk  with 
his  printed  examination  paper  before  him.  My 
most  dreaded  rival  in  these  examinations  sat 
next  me  at  a  desk  on  the  right,  and  I  think  that 
this  boy,  who  was  a  genius  in  many  ways,  would 
have  beaten  me  if  he  had  not  resorted  to  unlawful 
methods .  We  were  translating  a  passage  from  the 
"Medea"  of  Euripides  at  the  time,  and  as  I 
happened  to  look  round  in  this  boy's  direction,  it 
struck  me  he  was  trying  to  hide  something  with 
his  elbow.  In  short,  I  soon  came  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  he  was  making  use  of  a  "crib "  or  trans- 
lation, the  edge  of  which  just  projected  under  his 
desk  cover.  I  was  so  dumfounded  that  I  could 
hardly  believe  my  eyes.  The  fifth  form  was  the 
second  highest  in  the  school,  and  such  an  occur- 
rence among  us  was  almost  unthinkable.  How- 
ever, acting  simply  in  the  class  spirit,  which  in 


BEGINNINGS  IN  SCOTLAND  25 

fact  I  did  n't  have  to  think  about,  I  at  once  stood 
up  and  asked  the  form  master  if  it  would  be  con- 
sidered the  proper  thing  then  and  there  to  name 
a  boy  for  cribbing.  He  repHed,  "Most  certainly." 
I  did  so.  The  boy,  without  a  word  of  excuse, 
bluntly  and  frankly  pleaded  guilty.  He  was 
immediately  expelled  from  the  classroom,  and 
the  cheering  that  followed  the  closing  of  the  inci- 
dent, which  the  master  himself  encouraged,  gave 
me  instantly  to  understand  that  I  had  not  been 
mistaken  in  my  estimate  of  the  class  spirit. 

IV 

My  school  life  in  Manchester  ended  rather 
abruptly.  My  younger  brothers  were  coming 
along,  and  it  became  necessary  for  me  to  earn  a 
living.  It  was  a  time  when  telegraph  cables  were 
being  laid  to  all  parts  of  the  world.  So  I  went  up 
to  London  and  spent  some  time  learning  to  ope- 
rate the  cable  instruments.  I  made  such  good 
progress  that  I  very  soon  received  an  appoint- 
ment in  the  service  of  a  company  that  was  then 
laying  cables  along  the  coast  of  South  America, 
and  forthwith  I  made  preparations  to  leave  Eng- 
land. 

At  this  point  it  will  be  well  to  call  to  mind 
my  intellectual  and  religious  condition.  I  was 
pretty  well  equipped  with  school-learning,  and 
my  mind  was  filled  with  a  mass  of  moral  general- 


26      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

ities,  but  of  the  world  and  its  practical  dangers 
and  temptations  I  was  supremely  ignorant.  I 
was  extremely  religious,  but,  according  to  modern 
ideas  and  standards,  my  education  lacked  its 
most  essential  feature.  This,  however,  was  the 
religious  stage  of  my  development,  and  it  must 
bear  its  own  burden  and  tell  its  own  story. 

Just  before  leaving  England  I  received  an  invi- 
tation to  visit  a  cousin  who  was  home  from  India 
on  a  visit.  He  was  about  forty  years  of  age,  and 
by  far  the  strongest,  most  practical,  and  withal 
the  noblest  kind  of  man  I  had  yet  encountered. 
He  tried  to  explain  to  me  the  different  aspects  of 
city  life  from  a  practical  point  of  view,  but  al- 
though I  listened  attentively  to  his  advice  it  did 
not  seem  to  appeal  to  me  in  a  personal  way.  I 
could  not  get  away  from  the  mass  of  generalities 
in  which  my  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  was 
enveloped,  and  it  was  these  practical  aspects  of 
life  that  my  cousin  endeavored  to  bring  home  to 
me  in  a  final  interview. 

Just  before  my  departure  for  South  America, 
we  sat  side  by  side  in  the  anteroom  of  a  restaurant. 
I  retain  the  liveliest  and  kindliest  recollection  of 
this  conversation.  My  cousin  spoke  first  of  him- 
self. There  were  many  incidents  and  shortcomings 
in  his  own  career  on  which  he  looked  back  with 
keenest  regret,  and  perhaps  on  that  very  account 
his  words  should  have  had  additional  weight. 


BEGINNINGS  IN  SCOTLAND  27 

Then  he  turned  to  my  own  plans  and  prospects. 
He  had  been  informed  of  my  satisfactory  record 
at  school,  but  that  by  itself,  in  his  opinion,  did  n't 
amount  to  much.  The  problems  of  life  were  not 
to  be  solved  by  the  mere  exercise  of  intellectual 
attainments.  He  said  a  good  deal  about  heredity 
and  environment,  although  he  did  not  make  use 
of  these  terms,  but  he  laid  emphasis  upon  what  he 
called  "streaks"  and  habits.  All  these  ideas  and 
situations,  he  contended,  are  for  the  most  part 
derived  from  the  behavior  of  people  who  drift. 
They  have  no  terrors  to  the  man  with  a  purpose 
in  life,  and  a  will.  He  took  a  number  of  illustra- 
tions from  our  own  family  history  as  practical 
examples  of  individual  success  and  failure,  and  to 
show  that  character  is  always  dependent  upon 
pronounced  individualism. 

In  conclusion  my  cousin  asked  me  if  I  had  read 
any  novels.  He  wished  I  would  immediately  read 
one  of  Bulwer-Lytton's  —  I  have  forgotten  the 
title.  He  referred  specifically  to  one  passage  or 
chapter  in  this  book,  in  which  the  guardian  of  a 
young  lady  calls  her  attention  to  a  small  plant  or 
fern  half  hidden  among  the  rocks  on  a  hillside. 
He  told  her  he  had  been  watching  the  little  plant 
for  weeks  in  its  brave  struggle  to  lift  its  head  up 
out  of  its  unfavorable  surroundings  into  the  clear 
air  and  sunshine.  From  my  cousin's  point  of  view 
it  was  a  striking  lesson  in  character-building,  the 


28      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

significance  of  which  was  accentuated  by  the 
parting  advice  given  to  this  girl  by  the  guardian, 
*'Keep  yourself  unspotted  from  the  world." 

If  my  cousin  had  understood  my  mental  con- 
dition at  the  time  he  would  have  been  more  ex- 
plicit. As  it  was,  I  only  half  understood  his  mean- 
ing. To  keep  myself  unspotted  from  the  world 
was  just  another  Biblical  text,  and  I  was  still  in 
the  thraldom  of  these  terrible  generalities.  How- 
ever unusual  and  morbid  my  mental  state  at  this 
time  may  appear  to  this  matter-of-fact  and  prac- 
tical generation,  I  cannot  refrain  from  describing 
the  sequel  to  this  interview. 

I  wandered  homeward  to  my  lodging.  Every 
step  of  the  journey  is  indelibly  fixed  on  my  mem- 
ory. Early  in  the  afternoon  I  took  a  seat  in  a  se- 
cluded spot  in  Kensington  Gardens.  Before  long 
I  was  disturbed  and  sought  a  still  quieter  situa- 
tion. I  soon  found  an  enormous  tree-trunk,  roots 
and  all,  from  which  the  tree  itself  had  been 
severed  and  carted  away.  In  the  great  cavity  in 
the  ground,  caused  by  the  violent  uprooting  of 
the  tree,  I  ensconced  myself.  I  wished  to  think 
over  this  problem  of  life,  and  of  my  future,  which 
my  cousin  had  been  trying  so  patiently  to  impart 
to  me.  What  did  he  actually  mean  when  he  told 
me  to  keep  myself  unspotted  from  the  world  .^^ 
Was  there  actually  a  conspiracy  in  nature  or 
otherwise,  for  the  waylaying  and  moral  destruc- 


BEGINNINGS  IN  SCOTLAND  29 

tion  of  people?  If  so,  under  what  guise  and  in 
what  form  was  I  to  look  for  it?  Hour  after  hour 
I  pondered,  and  still  no  light  came.  I  was  finally 
aroused  from  my  reverie  by  the  monotonous  and 
oft-repeated  cry  of  the  park  policeman,  "All  out, 
all  out."  Then  I  made  the  best  of  my  way 
homeward. 

A  few  days  later,  in  the  city  of  Lisbon,  the 
revelation  and  the  awakening  took  place.  It  is 
all  so  simple  now.  It  was  so  terrible  then.  It 
happened  in  this  way. 

There  was  some  delay  to  our  outward-bound 
steamer  at  Lisbon  and  the  opportunity  presented 
itself  to  go  on  shore  for  a  while.  Several  of  my 
fellow  clerks  were  also  on  this  ship,  but  they  had 
been  seasick  in  the  bay,  so  I  did  not  bother  about 
them.  I  went  on  shore  alone.  It  was,  of  course, 
my  first  introduction  to  a  foreign  city,  and  it 
goes  without  saying  that  the  dreamy,  languorous 
atmosphere,  the  sun-baked  streets,  the  sort  of 
aimless  sauntering  of  the  populace  in  this  semi- 
tropical  city  were  very  new  and  strange  to  me. 

Before  long  a  young  man  stepped  up  to  me  and 
inquired  in  good  English  if  I  did  not  wish  to  look 
at  the  most  notable  buildings  and  sights  of  the 
city.  He  would  be  glad  to  show  me  round  for  a 
mere  trifle.  So  I  made  a  bargain  with  him  and  set 
out.  We  visited  many  places  of  interest,  and, 
finally;   in   crossing   a   large   square,   my   guide 


30      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF.  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

excused  himself  for  a  minute  for  the  purpose  of 
speaking  to  a  young  woman,  who  happened  to 
cross  our  path.  After  an  interval  he  returned. 
He  immediately  began  to  tell  me  about  the  young 
woman.  It  was  an  extraordinary  case;  she  was 
a  cousin  of  his  from  the  country,  driven  from 
home  by  harsh  treatment,  and  here  she  was  alone 
and  penniless  in  the  city.  He  had  n't  seen  her  for 
years.  However,  he  had  directed  her  to  his  own 
home,  where  she  would  be  taken  care  of  for  a 
time,  at  any  rate.  Then  we  continued  our  sight- 
seeing. 

Finally,  I  mentioned  my  desire  to  return  to  the 
ship.  I  then  offered  the  man  the  sum  of  money  we 
had  agreed  upon.  He  said  he  would  attend  to  that 
later,  and  added,  "Here  we  are  close  to  my 
home;  if  you  will  step  in  we  can  sit  down  and  rest 
for  a  minute  or  two,  and  take  a  little  refresh- 
ment." It  was  the  simplest  kind  of  a  proposi- 
tion, so  we  entered  the  house  together.  He  led 
the  way  into  an  inner  room  which  was  cosily 
fitted  up  with  lounges  and  reclining-chairs,  on 
one  of  which  I  seated  myself.  He  then  left  the 
room. 

Ten  minutes  or  so  passed  away  and  I  was  be- 
ginning to  wonder  at  the  delay,  when  the  door 
opened,  and  a  j'oung  woman  appeared  on  the 
threshold.  It  was  the  interpreter's  cousin  whom 
we  had  met  in  the  public  square.  She  greeted  me 


BEGINNINGS  IN  SCOTLAND  31 

familiarly  and  extended  her  hand.  I  shook  it 
mechanically.  Her  garments  were  sparkling  with 
ornament,  and  a  mass  of  color.  For  a  second  she 
simply  stood  there  playing  with  a  tassel  that  dan- 
gled from  her  headdress;  then  suddenly  from  her 
lips  came  a  ripple  of  laughter,  and  she  tapped  her 
foot  lightly  on  the  floor. 

Meanwhile,  my  mind  was  passing  through  a 
tempest  of  conflicting  emotions.  Something  said 
to  me,  "Here  you  are  at  last  —  what  are  you 
going  to  do  about  it.^*  Here  is  your  generality  in 
human  form  —  the  event  itself." 

In  an  instant  the  situation  in  its  true  light 
dawned  upon  me.  The  mental  struggle  banished. 
A  world  of  generalities  were  converted  instinct- 
ively into  a  practical  decision.  It  was  at  once  a 
recognition  and  an  outburst.  The  writing  on  the 
wall  was  now  made  clear  to  me  in  all  its  vital  sig- 
nificance: "Keep  yourself  unspotted  from  the 
world." 

I  brushed  the  woman  to  one  side,  ripped  open 
the  door,  and  found  myself  face  to  face  with  the 
interpreter.  I  threw  his  money  at  his  feet.  I 
seemed  to  possess  the  concentrated  strength  of  a 
dozen  men.  I  sent  him  spinning  across  the  floor 
and  rushed  out  into  the  street. 


II 

LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 

I 

A  JOURNEY  of  a  few  hundred  miles  in  any  coun- 
try is  usually  sufficient  to  separate  a  boy  from 
his  home  props  and  influences,  and  to  impress 
upon  his  mind,  in  some  degree,  the  necessity  for 
independent  thought  and  action.  But  the  separa- 
tion in  such  a  case  is  seldom  complete.  He  may 
still  find  himself  among  friends  and,  at  the  worst, 
his  neighbors  will  understand  his  needs,  and  be 
able  to  speak  his  language.  But  let  him  once  put 
an  ocean  between  himself  and  everybody  he  has 
ever  spoken  to  or  loved  in  this  world,  and  imme- 
diately time  and  space,  and  the  void  in  his  own 
heart,  become  almost  immeasurable.  Such  was 
the  situation  I  was  called  upon  to  face  on  my 
return  to  the  steamer,  after  my  adventurous  and 
very  clarifying  experience  on  the  streets  of  Lisbon. 

And  just  at  this  point  in  my  narrative,  a  word 
of  explanation  should  be  given.  It  must  not  be 
imagined  by  my  readers,  or  assumed  for  an  in- 
stant by  myself,  that  in  the  stage  which  I  am 
now  attempting  to  describe  there  was,  to  begin 
with,  any  suspicion  of  philosophy  in  my  mental 


LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA      33 

composition.  In  Lisbon  I  had  received  a  sudden 
and  somewhat  rude  awakening.  After  a  long 
period  of  intellectual  and  religious  cramming,  I 
suddenly  found  myself  face  to  face  with  example 
and  illustration  in  the  concrete.  It  is  impossible 
to  describe  the  mental  change  that  accompanied 
this  awakening.  In  a  very  matter-of-fact  way,  I 
began  to  recognize  in  my  environment  a  number 
of  other  dangers  of  a  very  practical  and  personal 
nature,  and  in  order  to  steer  clear  of  them  all, 
I  fell  back  upon  the  only  resource  of  which,  at 
the  time,  I  had  any  knowledge,  and  that  was 
prayer. 

At  the  present  day,  I  am  afraid  prayer  has  very 
little  intellectual  or  spiritual  reality.  In  polite 
society,  and  in  the  public  schools,  for  example,  it 
is  seldom  mentioned  in  a  spiritual  way,  or  even  as 
an  intellectual  or  moral  exercise,  although,  we 
may  as  well  confess,  no  substitute  for  it  has  ever 
been  proposed.  Its  educational  value,  however, 
has  always  seemed  to  me  immense. 

From  the  fact,  then,  that  I  have  given  this 
period  of  my  life  very  serious  consideration,  I 
think  I  am  justified  in  concluding  that  my  under- 
standing of  the  situation  is,  in  the  main,  correct: 
that  when  I  returned  to  the  ship,  after  a  visit 
to  the  city  of  Lisbon,  it  was  simply  fear  that  took 
possession  of  me;  for  the  most  part,  moral  fear, 
which    one    of    those    Biblical    expressions,    so 


34      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

pregnant  witli  practical  msight,  reminds  us  is 
"the  beginning  of  wisdom." 

I  wish  to  be  clearly  understood  in  my  defense 
of  these  natural  safeguards  under  the  protection 
of  which  I  was  preparing  to  face  the  world  and 
its  problems,  for  the  reason  that  fear  also,  as  a 
moral  and  educative  force,  is  now  frequently 
looked  upon  as  a  relic  of  religious  barbarism.  In 
the  new  dispensation,  love  is  to  take  the  place  of 
fear.  By  all  means  let  us  welcome  the  change, 
but  there  is  danger  in  haste.  As  a  practical  factor 
in  life,  fear  is  still  of  the  greatest  economic  and 
spiritual  value.  The  natural  order  of  spiritual 
progress  seems  to  be,  fear,  purification,  and  then 
love.  In  the  Biblical  text,  "Perfect  love  casteth 
out  fear,"  the  emphasis  is  on  the  word  "Perfect." 

The  day  after  leaving  Lisbon,  I  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  some  of  my  shipmates.  Besides 
myself  there  were  three  telegraph  clerks  on  board, 
and  with  one  of  them,  in  particular,  this  narra- 
tive has  considerable  to  do.  His  name  was 
Broadbent.  He  was  then  about  thirty  years  of 
age.  He  was  a  widely  informed  man,  particularly 
well  posted  in  all  matters  relating  to  his  profes- 
sion. He  was  one  of  those  intellectually  clever 
men  who  sometimes  find  it  diflScult  to  settle  down 
anywhere.  He  had  filled  responsible  positions  in 
the  cable  service  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  and  he 
was  then  on  his  way  to  Brazil  as  clerk  in  charge 


LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA      35 

of  the  cable  office  at  Santos,  where  I  expected 
to  be  located  for  a  time;  consequently  I  lost  no 
time  in  making  his  acquaintance.  He  proved  to 
be  a  man  of  ideas,  as  well  as  of  great  practical 
experience.  He  had  also  read  a  great  deal,  and 
knew  how  to  utilize  his  information  conversa- 
tionally. 

It  did  n't  take  Broadbent  long  to  look  me 
over  and  take  my  measure.  In  a  day  or  two  after 
leaving  Lisbon  I  had  shaken  myself  clear  of  any 
desire  I  might  have  had  for  introspection  or  sol- 
itude. Physically  I  was  in  splendid  condition, 
and  this  led  naturally  to  mental  and  bodily  enthu- 
siasm of  every  description.  I  distinctly  remember, 
after  my  first  night  on  board  ship,  with  what  an 
all-absorbing  curiosity  in  regard  to  myself  and 
my  surroundings  I  ventured  on  deck.  I  felt  a 
great  desire  to  know  people,  to  mingle  with  them, 
and  to  find  out  what  they  were  talking  about,  and 
I  began  with  Broadbent. 

He  seemed  to  enjoy  my  frankness  and  simplicity 
of  manner.  I  was  making  my  first  appearance  in 
the  world,  and  he  found  me  unusually  interested 
in  everything  and  everybody.  I  made  no  secret 
of  my  religious  training  and  convictions,  and  the 
ingenuous,  matter-of-fact  way  in  which  I  expressed 
myself  on  the  subject  seemed  to  arouse  no  end 
of  amusement  and  interest.  I  can  never  forget 
Broadbent's  remark  at  the  end  of  our  first  inter- 


36      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

view:  he  said,  "You  are  a  strange  fish  in  muddy 
waters." 

To  tell  the  truth,  this  kind  of  reception  flattered 
my  vanity,  and  started  a  current  of  self-esteem.  I 
understand  now  that  right  here  are  to  be  noticed 
the  first  indications  of  a  definite  philosophy,  which 
in  a  few  days,  with  the  assistance  of  Broadbent, 
was  brought  out  into  clear  relief. 

After  mingling  with  people  on  the  ship  for  a 
day  or  two,  I  was  very  much  surprised  to  note 
that  practically  everybody  was  either  ignorant  or 
neglectful  of  what  may  be  called  the  Biblical 
treatment  of  the  problems  of  correct  living.  It 
was  just  at  this  point,  and  in  this  manner,  that  I 
first  got  it  into  my  head  that  I  was  an  individual 
representing  something  that  differed  essentially 
from  the  spiritual  stock-in-trade  of  the  people 
in  whose  company  I  was.  And  thus,  in  the  most 
natural  way,  and  at  the  outset  of  my  career,  I 
found  myself  face  to  face  with  the  philosophy  of 
personal  conduct  in  its  relation  to  life  in  general. 

Broadbent  soon  found  out  what  I  was  driving 
at,  and  singled  me  out  for  his  intellectual  quarry. 
He  told  me  in  plain  English  that  he  had  met  me 
before  in  different  shapes  and  sizes,  that  he  looked 
upon  all  such  people  as  interesting  mediaeval 
survivals,  emotional  for  the  most  part,  but  not 
lasting.  In  fact,  in  his  opinion,  all  that  was  want- 
ing to  convert  me  into  a  reasonable  and  useful 


LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA      37 

member  of  society,  was  to  put  me  into  actual 
touch  with  people  and  conditions,  and  then  to 
instill  into  my  callow  and  superficial  understand- 
ing, a  little  knowledge  in  regard  to  the  biological 
and  sociological  discoveries  with  which  scientists 
and  philosophers  were  then  busily  enlightening 
the  world. 

Broadbent  was  altogether  too  big  for  me  at 
this  game.  I  had  neither  the  knowledge  nor  the 
ability  to  meet  him  on  his  own  ground  in  an  argu- 
ment of  this  description.  Furthermore,  I  actually 
admired  the  man.  I  absorbed  the  information 
he  imparted  to  me,  by  the  chapter.  It  was  all  so 
new  to  me,  and,  withal,  so  fascinating.  I  could  see 
no  reason  to  doubt  the  truth  or  underestimate  the 
value  to  society,  of  the  discoveries  of  science 
which  he  championed  so  eloquently.  But  down  in 
my  heart  my  satisfaction  was  tempered  with  a 
sort  of  secret  determination  to  find  out,  as  soon 
as  possible,  just  what  effect  all  this  wisdom  had 
had  in  the  past,  and  was  having  in  the  present, 
upon  Broadbent  the  man.  This  was  the  issue 
that  my  individuality  and  budding  philosophy 
were  preparing  to  test  him  with,  and  later  on  he 
was  called  upon  to  answer  these  personal  inquiries. 

At  that  time,  however,  he  had  little  idea  of 
the  nature  of  the  soil  he  was  trying  to  cultivate. 
He  looked  upon  me  as  a  precocious  greenhorn, 
and  he  proceeded  cleverly,  and  with  design,  to 


38      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

draw  me  out  for  the  edification  of  our  little  ship- 
board audience.  But  I  was  not  so  green  as  he 
imagined.  My  mental  experience  was  consider- 
able, and  my  contact  with  life,  and  with  Broad- 
bent,  was  converting  my  reveries  into  expression 
and  ideas  of  a  practical  nature.  Unavoidably 
those  were  idle  days  on  board  ship,  and  a  week 
spent  in  Broadbent's  company  was  probably 
equal  to  a  year's  intercourse  with  people  whom 
one  meets  in  the  usual  way.  Broadbent,  I  think, 
was  a  little  flattered,  or  at  any  rate  amused,  at 
the  tribute  I  paid  by  my  attention  to  his  intellec- 
tual attainments,  and  our  discussions  became  the 
talk  of  the  ship.  On  several  occasions  the  cabin 
of  one  of  the  officers,  in  which  our  conversations 
took  place,  was  crowded  to  the  door. 

The  reasons  I  have  for  remembering  these  dis- 
cussions are  much  more  than  personal.  My  expe- 
rience was  only  an  illustration,  on  a  small  scale, 
of  the  intellectual  excitement  that  was  being 
aroused  at  the  time,  all  over  the  world.  It  was 
finding  practical  and  theoretical  expression  in  a 
great  wave  of  miscellaneous  experiment  and  dis- 
cussion. For  one  thing,  the  Book  of  Genesis  and 
miracles  of  every  description  in  Biblical  history 
were  on  trial  at  the  bar  of  the  "Missing  Link." 
As  it  seems  to  me,  nothing  has  ever  aroused  and 
stimulated  the  intellectual,  and  particularly  the 
critical,  faculties  of  mankind  so  universally  and 


LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AIVIERICA      39 

permanently  as  this  simple  biological  investiga- 
tion. Hitherto,  in  Broadbent's  own  words,  the 
mind  of  society,  in  its  treatment  of  human  know- 
ledge had  been,  intellectually  speaking,  like  a 
closed  oyster,  and  now  Darwin  and  Lyell  and 
Tyndall  and  Huxley  and  Herbert  Spencer  were 
opening  it  with  cold-blooded  indifference  to 
people's  feelings  or  opinions.  A  more  auspicious 
point  of  time  for  any  young  man  to  make  his  entry 
into  the  world  of  science,  religion,  and  practical 
affairs  cannot  be  imagined. 

The  abruptness  of  this  intellectual  split  cannot, 
I  think,  be  appreciated  to  its  full  extent  by  the 
present  generation.  It  was  not  so  much  a  mere 
question  of  evolution  on  the  one  hand  and  crea- 
tion on  the  other.  The  movement  itself,  repre- 
sented by  the  men  I  have  mentioned,  signalized 
the  bursting  of  all  barriers,  and  the  complete 
enfranchisement  of  the  mind  in  every  department 
of  human  inquiry. 

I  remember  in  what  a  clever  and  fascinating 
manner  Broadbent  imparted  to  his  listeners  the 
latest  marvels  of  sociological  and  biological  ex- 
periment. I  recognize  now,  in  connection  with  it, 
his  distinct  foreshadowing  of  the  doctrines  of 
socialism.  But  these  revelations,  which  in  fact  I 
little  understood,  did  not  disturb  me  in  the  least. 
Nearly  every  word  the  man  uttered  enriched  my 
mind  and  widened  my  horizon. 


40      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

But  then  again,  when  I  retired  to  my  cabin, 
after  listening  to  Broadbent,  I  still,  and,  .always, 
found  myself  face  to  face  with  my  own  individu- 
ality, that  is  to  say,  with  my  own  personal  pro- 
blems. This  was  inevitable  for  the  following  very 
practical  reason.  Nearly  every  man  on  the  ship 
spent  most  of  his  time  in  drinking  and  gambling. 
These  were  facts  of  which,  hitherto,  I  had  not  had 
the  slightest  practical  knowledge.  I  instinctively 
understood  that  these  habits  were  fundamental, 
and,  looking  on  from  day  to  day,  I  could  not  for 
the  life  of  me  understand  how  these  great  personal 
issues  of  life  were  simplified,  or  solved  in  any  way, 
by  the  discovery  that  creation  was  a  myth.  In 
this  way,  in  spite  of  my  increasing  enlightenment, 
the  personal  aspect  of  affairs  acquired  additional 
emphasis,  and  was  not  to  be  disturbed  by  any 
mere  theory  of  origins. 

Broadbent,  however,  stated  his  case  very 
clearly.  I  remember  his  argument  distinctly.  He 
affirmed  that  character,  in  its  best  sense,  is  fun- 
damentally scientific  and  not  religious,  and  for 
this  reason  good  behavior  is  bound  to  win  out  in 
the  end.  I,  on  the  other  hand,  insisted  on  separat- 
ing the  issues.  I  contended  that  the  end  or  result 
he  looked  forward  to  by  the  scientific  route,  was 
too  far  off  for  practical  purposes ;  and  that  in  the 
mean  time,  the  personal  method,  guided  by  pre- 
cepts of  Christianity,  must  remain  the  thorough- 


I 


LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA      41 

fare  to  personal  and  social  salvation  of  every 
description.  Right  here  on  this  issue,  before  the 
end  of  the  voyage,  Broadbent  and  I  locked  horns. 
In  his  opinion  the  scientific  interpretation  and 
unfolding  of  life  contained  also  its  moral  inter- 
pretation. Many  people  who  figure  in  the  same 
way  at  the  present  day,  fancifully  propose  to 
refill  the  churches  by  a  fairer  adjustment  of 
economic  conditions.  To  me,  then  as  now,  it 
seems  possible  and  necessary  to  separate  the 
issues,  and  to  insist  upon  a  clear  understanding 
of  their  value  and  relative  importance. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  I  told  Broadbent  I  was  glad 
to  hear  his  side  of  it  for  his  own  sake.  I  informed 
him  that  I  was  going  out  to  Brazil  in  the  first  place, 
of  course,  to  earn  a  living,  but  incidentally  also, 
to  study  the  lives  of  people,  including  his  own, 
with  the  idea  of  finding  out,  if  possible,  just  how 
our  opinions  on  the  subject  stood  the  test  of 
actual  contact  with  life. 

However,  to  do  Broadbent  justice,  he  had  done 
me  a  world  of  good.  In  the  short  space  of  three 
weeks  I  had  changed  or  been  converted  from  a 
mere  boy,  perplexed  with  a  mind  full  of  emotional 
instincts,  into  an  individual,  with  a  more  or  less 
definite  trade-mark,  and  with  a  certain  point  of 
view  in  regard  to  life  and  living  in  which  I  had 
become  enthusiastically  interested.  I  had  stepped 
suddenly  into  the  midst  of  the  world  of  affairs; 


42      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

my  impressions  of  people  and  of  conduct  were 
acute;  every  person  on  this  ship  was  a  problem 
of  some  kind  to  me,  and  every  hour  that  passed 
added  to  my  stock  of  practical  enlightenment. 

But  while  Broadbent  and  I  were  engaged  in 
these  sociological  discussions  I  became,  at  the 
same  time,  involved  in  a  matter  of  a  different 
nature  altogether,  at  the  hands  of  another  man 
who,  meantime,  had  become  interested  in  me  and 
my  fortunes. 

II 

When  I  look  back  at  the  outline  of  the  past, 
the  events  worth  mentioning  stand  out  by  them- 
selves and  assume  a  dream-like  reality.  Doubt- 
less the  events  cut  deep  and  the  impressions  were 
acute,  hence  their  survival;  and  now  distance  and 
time  have  added  to  their  enchantment.  The  facts 
and  the  faces  are  still  to  me  intensely  real;  never- 
theless, my  casting  adrift  from  home  influences, 
my  first  sea-voyage,  my  first  encounter  with 
opinions  and  people,  and  my  first  observations  of 
life,  read  to-day  more  like  a  chapter  copied  at 
random  from  "Gulliver's  Travels,"  or  the  "Ara- 
bian Nights'  Entertainments,"  than  a  narrative  of 
sober  happenings  that  took  place  on  a  humdrum 
steamship. 

To  me,  at  any  rate,  the  world  in  its  first  appear- 
ance was  a  tremendous  situation,  and  I  was  a  sort 


LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA      43 

of  unaccountable  fact  awaiting  treatment  of  some 
kind,  in  the  centre  of  it.  My  curiosity  and  enthu- 
siasm, however,  were  only  heightened  by  the  con- 
sciousness of  my  personal  insignificance.  On  this 
my  first  sea  voyage,  in  a  most  astonishing  man- 
ner, practical  intelligence  and  enlightenment  were 
imparted  to  me  in  a  series  of  shocks,  and  every 
increase  in  knowledge  added  to  my  self-import- 
ance in  relation  to  my  surroundings.  Every  time 
I  came  on  deck  I  looked  round  for  new  features  and 
new  faces  to  investigate.  I  was  continually  on 
the  tiptoe  of  expectation,  and  this  unfeigned  and 
exuberant  interest  which  I  took  in  my  environ- 
ment, was  returned  to  me  before  long,  very  curi- 
ously, and  in  double  measure. 

Among  the  passengers  on  the  ship  was  a  well- 
to-do  Spaniard,  a  South-American  trader,  as  he 
was  called,  and  his  son  Jose.  They  were  return- 
ing to  their  home  in  Rosario,  then  as  now  a  city 
of  rising  importance  in  the  Argentine  Republic. 
The  merchant  was  a  widower,  some  sixty  years 
old,  and  his  son  was  a  pale-faced,  interesting 
boy,  of  studious  habits,  my  senior  by  a  year  or 
two. 

Beginning  at  school  and  continuing  until  to- 
day, one  of  the  greatest  of  my  intellectual  pleas- 
ures has  been  the  study  of  languages;  so  when  I 
found  out  that  this  young  fellow  was  as  anxious  to' 
learn  English  as  I  was  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of 


44      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

Spanish,  an  acquaintance  was  begun  between  us 
that  soon  developed  into  a  closer  intimacy.  We 
went  to  work  systematically  in  our  studies;  twice 
a  day,  regularly,  for  two  weeks,  we  came  together 
for  the  purpose  of  adding  to  our  vocabularies,  and 
of  engaging  in  conversational  exercises,  and  during 
these  study  periods  the  old  gentleman  was  always 
an  interested  listener.  Under  such  favorable  con- 
ditions our  progress  was  remarkable.  In  less  than 
two  weeks,  with  the  assistance  of  the  dictionaries 
added  to  the  very  slight  knowledge  of  the  language 
we  had  acquired  in  school,  we  could  worry  through 
almost  anything  we  wished  to  say. 

As  the  days  passed  the  old  Spaniard's  interest 
increased,  and  he  began  to  ask  me  all  sorts  of 
questions  about  my  business  intentions  and  pros- 
pects. It  was  customary  for  many  of  the  young 
men  on  the  ship  to  come  together  daily  and  en- 
gage in  gymnastic  exercises.  In  some  of  the  com- 
petitions I  more  than  held  my  own.  This  seemed 
to  astonish  the  old  gentleman;  that  one  so  young 
should  be  so  enthusiastic  physically  and  intellec- 
tually at  the  same  time,  seemed  to  him  most 
unusual.  And  then  again,  my  simple  application 
of  Biblical  texts  to  everyday-life,  and  my  inter- 
pretation of  them  from  the  personal  standpoint,, 
seemed  to  please  him  exceedingly.  He  had  quite  a 
fair  knowledge  of  the  English  language,  and  had 
no  diflSculty  in  understanding  me.  The  boy,  also. 


LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AlVIERICA      45 

was  interested  in  these  matters  and  took  pleas- 
ure in  my  society.  As  for  me,  I  knew  absolutely 
nothing  about  Spanish  life  and  character,  and  I 
did  not  pause  long  enough  to  give  my  growing 
intimacy  with  these  people  so  much  as  a  passing 
thought.  I  was  open-minded,  however,  and  judged 
appearances  for  just  what  they  seemed  to  be 
worth.  Without  advice  from  anybody  I  trusted 
my  own  judgment  and  went  ahead.  But  at  night, 
in  prayer-like  reveries,  I  always  squared  up  for 
the  day's  doings,  and  acquired  fresh  courage  and 
guidance  for  the  days  to  come. 

At  intervals  the  old  gentleman  questioned  me 
about  the  details  of  my  situation  in  the  telegraph 
service,  and  he  seemed  to  think  very  little  of  the 
opportunities  and  prospects  connected  with  it. 
On  the  other  hand,  with  great  earnestness,  he  and 
the  boy  tried  to  impress  upon  me  ideas  of  the 
wealth  and  enterprise  of  the  people  in  Buenos 
Ayres  and  Rosario,  and  of  the  splendid  future 
that  was  in  store  for  a  part  of  the  American  conti- 
nent that  was  just  then  beginning  to  acquire  a 
world-wide  celebrity.  In  his  broken  manner  and 
language,  and  as  best  he  could,  he  repeatedly 
broached  the  idea  and  wish  that  I  should  become 
interested  in  some  enterprise  more  in  harmony 
with  my  talents  and  enthusiasm. 

This  familiar  intercourse  was  continued  until  we 
came  in  sight  of  the  harbor  at  Rio  de  Janeiro. 


46      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

I  was  then  in  that  amiable  and  impressionable 
state  of  mind  when  the  affectionate  regard  of 
these  people  took  right  hold  of  me,  and  I  listened 
to  the  glowing  story  of  the  old  Spanish  merchant 
with  unfeigned  interest  and  delight.  Just  when 
the  passengers  whose  destination  was  Rio  —  and 
I  was  one  of  them  —  were  making  ready  to  leave 
the  ship,  I  was  invited  to  his  cabin  for  a  farewell 
interview.  Broken  as  was  his  language,  I  had  no 
difficulty  in  understanding  the  drift  and  exact 
substance  of  this  conversation,  which  culminated 
in  a  remarkable  proposition. 

The  fact  of  the  matter  was,  he  was  opposed  to 
my  leaving  the  ship  at  Rio.  He  could  not  bear  to 
terminate  our  friendship  so  abruptly.  Was  it  not 
a  fact  that  Jose  and  I  were  getting  along  famously 
in  our  studies?  It  would  be  such  a  pity  to  separate 
us.  We  should  make  a  splendid  pair  of  workers  in 
any  business,  especially  in  his  business  in  Rosario, 
which  in  a  few  years,  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
events,  would  belong  to  Jose  exclusively.  And 
then,  again,  there  was  his  little  daughter  Amelie, 
who  was  in  Rosario,  awaiting  his  return.  She  was 
so  very  amiable  and  so  very  pretty.  At  that  mo- 
ment, to  be  sure,  she  was  a  mere  child  just  passing 
her  eleventh  year;  but  what  of  that?  By  the  time 
I  should  be  twenty  she  would  be  a  charming  little 
woman.  In  short,  the  proposition  was  from  his 
heart,   honest   and   unmistakable,   and   the   old 


LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA      47 

trader's  hand  was  in  mine  as  he  made  it,  —  so 
many  thousands  and  a  share  in  the  business  to 
begin  with,  and  in  the  near  future  a  partnership 
and  a  bride;  the  details  regarding  my  baggage 
and  the  affairs  of  the  telegraph  company  could 
easily  be  arranged. 

From  his  point  of  view  there  was  nothing  re- 
markable in  this  seemingly  generous  offer.  Adop- 
tions of  this  kind  were  everyday  occurrences 
among  Spaniards  in  South  America;  in  fact  the 
people  were  looking  forward  to  this  blending  of 
races  as  a  national  policy,  which  closely  concerned 
their  social  and  industrial  destiny.  Undoubtedly, 
then,  under  these  circumstances,  a  career  of 
unusual  activity  and  usefulness,  as  well  as  of 
domestic  happiness,  was  in  store  for  me.  On  the 
other  hand,  he  continued,  if  I  landed  in  Rio,  and 
took  my  chances  in  that  unholy  city,  I  was 
doomed  to  destruction.  Not  one  in  a  score  of  the 
young  Europeans  who  tried  to  live,  or  rather  to 
flicker  for  a  while  in  such  pestilential  localities, 
was  able  to  weather  the  scourge  of  the  climate 
and  the  riot  of  social  conditions.  As  for  the  cities, 
there  was  actually  no  choice — Rio,  Santos,  Bahia, 
Permanbuco,  Para,  they  were  all  the  same.  In 
six  months  I  would  certainly  find  myself  physi- 
cally wrecked  and  morally  ruined.  To  Rosario, 
then,  where  health  and  happiness  awaited  me! 

It  is  impossible  to  look  back  upon  this  situation 


48      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

with  an  unbiased  or  fully  equipped  understanding. 
Never  before  or  since  those  memorable  days  on 
board  ship  has  life  appeared  to  me  to  be  so  full  of 
hope,  so  temptingly  dangerous,  so  splendor-laden. 
I  am  willing  to  admit  that  everything  connected 
with  my  progress  up  to  this  point  must  be  looked 
upon  as  unusually  eventful  and,  in  a  measure, 
prematurely  expansive.  The  story  is  none  the  less 
interesting  on  that  account.  Selecting  its  most 
prominent  and  typical  incidents,  the  most  hum- 
drum existence  has  nearly  always  a  dramatic 
outline;  and  for  the  rest,  I  can  only  judge  of  what 
I  was,  or  of  what  I  thought  at  the  time,  by  what 
I  actually  did.  For  instance,  did  the  romantic 
and  mercenary  features  of  this  proposition  appeal 
to  me?  Certainly  not,  in  their  full  significance. 
Did  I  pause  to  think  what  the  folks  at  home  would 
have  to  say  about  it?  Under  the  circumstances 
this  would  have  been  of  little  use.  To  give  a 
candid  opinion,  however,  I  should  say  that  my 
instinctive  and  budding  self-assertion,  my  love  of 
adventure,  and,  above  all,  my  insatiable  curiosity 
to  get  into  the  world  of  afifairs  and  interpret  for 
my  own  use  some  of  its  riddles,  were  my  all-pow- 
erful guides  on  this  occasion.  I  accepted  the  prop- 
osition, in  a  provisional  way,  on  the  spot. 

This  first  journey  on  shipboard  is  more  import- 
ant in  my  autobiography  than  the  two  years  of 
work  and  experience  in  South  America  that  fol- 


LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA      49 

lowed.  It  was  a  point  of  departure  that  set  me 
adrift  on  a  wave  of  personal  investigation,  and 
intellectual  adventure,  that  I  shall^now  describe. 
As  for  the  proposition  of  the  Spanish  mer- 
chant, it  soon  died  a  natural  death;  and  the  story 
has  little  relation  to  my  future,  except  as  an 
illustration  of  the  bold  way  in  which,  without 
premeditation,  I  set  out  to  experiment  with  op- 
portunity, and  with  my  own  powers  in  connection 
with  it.  However,  I  explained  the  affair,  in  part, 
to  Broadbent,  who  took  a  business-like  view  of 
the  matter,  and  arranged  for  a  short  leave  of 
absence  from  my  duties.  The  adventure  itself 
soon  came  to  an  end.  I  remained  for  two  or  three 
weeks  in  Rosario,  and,  ridiculous  as  the  affair 
may  now  seem,  was  beginning  to  think  seriously 
of  a  permanent  sojourn,  when  suddenly  the  old 
merchant  died.  Then  a  change  came  over  the 
scene  and  the  prospects;  some  legal  and  domestic 
complications  arose,  in  which  I  had  no  desire  to 
take  part.  To  simplify  matters,  I  withdrew  from 
the  family  circle,  and  made  the  best  of  my  way 
to  my  original  destination' at  Santos. 

Ill 

I  must  pass  over  my  two  years*  sojourn  in 
Brazil  with  a  sort  of  feverish  retrospection.  My 
experience  was  too  pitiful,  too  tragically  interest- 
ing, too  prolonged,  to  come  within  the  limits  or 


50      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

province  of  any  ordinary  nightmare.  Looking 
back  at  it  all,  it  may  rather  be  likened  to  a  chap- 
ter in  Bunyan's  famous  allegory  in  which  the  pil- 
grim, encountering  unexpected  temptations  and 
pitfalls,  receives  his  first  terrible  set-back.  Years 
of  progressive  enlightenment  have  doubtless  bet- 
tered the  situation  in  Brazil,  from  every  point  of 
view;  but  when  I  arrived  in  the  country,  in  the 
late  seventies,  the  social  and  moral  environment 
in  which  I  found  myself,  was  simply  indescribable. 
But  in  order  to  make  my  own  conduct  appear  in  a 
measure  reasonable,  and  to  account  for  the  mental 
abyss  into  which  I  was  finally  plunged,  I  must  run 
over  a  few  of  the  events,  and  describe  some  of  the 
conditions,  as  briefly  as  possible. 

The  telegraph  office  was  located  in  a  great  stone 
building  which  faced  the  harbor.  The  clerks, 
five  or  six  of  us,  had  sleeping-rooms  in  this  block. 
The  office  work  itself  was  pleasant,  and  the  salaries 
of  the  men  were  quite  liberal.  It  took  me  about  a 
week  to  get  an  idea  of  the  place,  and  a  year's  so- 
journ did  not  alter  my  first  impressions.  For  a 
few  hours  during  the  morning  there  was  consider- 
able business  activity,  but  the  afternoons  were 
usually  very  quiet  and  intensely  hot.  The  real  life 
of  the  place  opened  up  when  the  offices  closed, 
and  the  sun  went  down.  Then  a  carnival  of  drink- 
ing set  in.  In  this  the  Europeans  were  the  chief 
participants.    The  natives  had  their  faults,  but 


LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA      51 

excess  in  drinking  was  not  one  of  them.  The 
friendly  advice  I  received  on  my  arrival,  to  get 
intoxicated  and  remain  in  that  condition,  if  I 
would  escape  the  yellow  fever,  was  lived  up  to, 
so  far  as  I  could  make  out,  by  every  one  who 
could  afford  it.  The  arrival  of  a  foreign  warship, 
or  of  a  man  of  note,  called  for  international  cour- 
tesies which  frequently  ended  in  midnight  street 
brawls. 

The  local  police  force  was  helpless  at  the  hands 
of  these  roisterers;  license  was  not  confined  to 
mere  conviviality;  in  the  midst  of  it  all,  women 
were  a  commodity.  At  intervals  they  were  im- 
ported from  Europe  in  batches  and  auctioned 
off  in  the  saloons,  under  all  sorts  of  contracts,  to 
the  highest  bidder.  Single  men  were  by  no  means 
so  abandoned  as  those  who  were  married  and  had 
families.  This,  I  was  assured,  was  a  proper  and 
reasonable  state  of  affairs.  Society  was  more 
vitally  interested  in  the  rising  generation  than  in 
the  behavior  of  those  who  were  no  longer  in  the 
matrimonial  market. 

For  a  month  or  so  I  moved  up  and  down,  as  it 
were,  in  the  midst  of  this  social  inferno.  Then  I 
went  to  Broadbent.  I  knew  from  observation 
that  he  was  not  much  better  than  the  crowd; 
nevertheless,  I  wanted  to  know  what  he  thought 
about  it  all.  The  personal  problem  with  which  I 
was  surrounded  seemed  to  me  to  be  overwhelm- 


52      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

ingly  important.  Broadbent  had  told  me  on  board 
ship  that  science,  poHtical  and  social  economy, 
would  take  care  of  just  such  situations;  but  for 
the  life  of  me,  now  that  I  was  in  the  midst  of  this 
one,  I  could  n't  understand  how  these  reforms  and 
cures  were  to  be  initiated  and  kept  alive  without 
personal  redemption,  beginning  within  and  bear- 
ing fruit  in  social  and  economic  reforms. 

The  people  whose  conduct  I  am  criticizing  were 
rich  enough;  they  were  intelligent,  in  a  way,  and 
could  reason  and  talk  about  other  people's  ideas 
by  the  hour;  but  they  lacked  the  acute  moral 
sense  which,  in  the  aggregate,  constitutes  the 
social  conscience.  I  could  not  help  noticing  at 
the  time  the  close  relationship  that  must  always 
exist  between  personal  and  civic  behavior. 

On  some  of  the  side  streets  dead  and  dying 
negroes  were  occasionally  thrown  out  into  the 
gutters.  And  again,  one  day  I  met  a  procession 
of  smallpox  patients,  in  all  stages  of  the  disease, 
dragging  themselves  through  the  public  streets 
on  the  way  to  climb  some  Mount  of  Piety,  to  pray 
for  intercession,  while  from  the  courtyards  of 
every  church  in  the  city  showers  of  rockets  as- 
cended on  prayerful  missions,  cracking  the  skies 
with  an  earsplitting  din. 

I  went  to  Broadbent,  I  say,  with  my  troubles, 
but  I  soon  discovered  that  in  spite  of  his  intellect- 
uality, he  was  nothing  but  a  social  degenerate. 


I 


LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA      53 

His  conversation  was  one  thing,  his  conduct  was 
another.  In  so  many  words,  "Eat  and  drink," 
he  said  to  me,  "for  to-morrow  we  shall  die." 
According  to  him,  yellow  fever  was  the  cause  and 
sufficient  reason,  scientifically  speaking,  for  per- 
sonal depravity.  It  was  indeed  true  that  at  inter- 
vals the  scourge  descended  upon  the  city  like  a 
murrain  among  cattle.  If  there  was  anything  in 
particular  that  was  noticeable,  it  was  its  affinity 
for  greenhorns,  fresh  arrivals,  and  clean  people. 
Chronic  drunkards,  as  a  rule,  were  immune. 
Broadbent  laid  emphasis  on  these  facts  and  one 
day,  after  explaining  the  situation  in  detail,  he 
said  to  me  in  substance,  — 

"  Come  along,  be  one  of  us.  It  is  either  this  or 
death,  or  perhaps  something  worse  than  death. 
You  know  Fillimore,  of  course.  He  works  beside 
you  in  the  office.  But  you  never  entered  his  room, 
did  you?  To  begin  with,  conditions  frightened  his 
moral  and  physical  nature,  as  they  have  yours. 
He  came  from  a  nice  home,  I  understand.  A  few 
drinks  and  a  little  companionship  would  have 
straightened  him  out,  but  we  could  n't  get  him 
to  emerge  from  his  shell.  So  now  he  comes  down 
to  the  office  in  the  morning,  and  sneaks  back  to 
his  room  in  the  afternoon,  and  in  the  evening  he 
gets  out  into  the  suburbs  and  captures  creeping 
things  of  every  description.  His  room  is  alive 
with  lizards  and  beetles  and  all  kinds  of  reptiles 


54      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

running  loose.  His  poisonous  pets,  such  as  tar- 
antulas, he  keeps  under  glass  covers.  He  does  his 
own  cooking  on  an  oil  stove.  He  has  never  venti- 
lated or  cleaned  his  room.  He  is  beyond  the  reach 
of  the  fever,  for  he  is  inconceivably  filthy.  He  is 
everlastingly  reading  the  Bible.  Just  think  of  it! 
This  is  what  it  is  to  be  driven  back  on  yourself  in 
this  forsaken  country.  You  know  what  the  alter- 
native is  —  take  your  choice." 

This  almost,  but  not  quite,  concluded  my  inter- 
course with  Broadbent.  I  said  to  him,  "  I  under- 
stand the  situation,  I  hate  your  philosophy,  I  refuse 
to  compromise.   I,  too,  will  fall  back  on  myself." 

I  kept  the  fact  to  myself,  but  to  tell  the  truth,  I 
was  mentally  and  morally  stunned.  Broadbent 
had,  at  least,  opened  my  eyes  and  given  me  a 
graphic  description  of  the  abyss  of  iniquity  into 
which,  with  unabashed  countenance,  he  invited 
me  to  plunge.  Good  people  no  doubt  there  were  in 
that  neighborhood,  but  I  never  met  them  or  heard 
of  them;  and  who  could  blame  them,  in  such  a 
maelstrom  of  depravity,  for  keeping  aloof  or  in 
hiding.  But  the  situation  to  me,  at  the  time,  was 
actually  worse  than  it  appears  to  be  on  the  surface. 
This  was  my  first  introduction  to  business  and 
social  circles,  and  although  I  knew  intuitively 
that  in  my  own  country,  for  example,  social  be- 
havior and  conditions  were  on  an  infinitely  higher 
level,  I  had  as  yet  no  practical  assurances  on  the 


LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA      55 

subject  except  as  a  schoolboy;  and  in  this,  my  first 
plunge  into  business  and  social  affairs,  I  found  the 
representatives  of  nearly  every  European  nation 
engaged  in  social  orgies  that  would  have  been  a 
disgrace  to  any  community  in  the  worst  days  of 
the  Roman  Empire. 

To  tell  the  truth,  I  was  terribly  disappointed. 
The  door  through  which  my  ambitions  and  aspir- 
ations pointed,  seemed  to  shut  with  a  bang.  In  a 
very  short  time,  like  Fillimore,  I  was  in  a  class  by 
myself,  and  to  my  surprise  my  religion  had  few 
consolations  for  me.  Both  religiously  and  soci- 
ally, for  the  time  being  at  any  rate,  I  was  a  palpa- 
ble misfit.  My  physical  and  moral  enthusiasm 
had  been  stifled  too  suddenly.   Inertia  set  in. 

For  a  week  or  more  I  went  about  my  duties 
mechanically;  otherwise  I  was  as  listless  and  unre- 
sponsive as  the  sands  of  the  desert.  Then  an  idea 
occurred  to  me.  I  could  n't  break  my  contract 
with  the  company,  but  I  could  go  to  work  and 
learn  some  of  the  languages  which  up  to  this  time, 
on  the  streets  and  elsewhere,  I  had  been  listening 
to  with  a  dull  ear.  I  immediately  turned  all 
my  energies  and  enthusiasm  in  this  direction.  It 
proved  to  be  a  delightful  and  profitable  occupation. 
I  went  about  it  almost  fiercely.  I  penetrated  into 
slums,  offices,  private  houses,  and  clubs,  hunting 
up  words  and  meanings,  and  also  people  to  con- 
verse with.   One  day  I  would  bury  myself  in  an 


56      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

underground  kitchen  witli  a  Portuguese  cook,  and 
the  next  day,  perhaps,  I  would  take  a  San  Paulo 
railroad  train,  get  off  at  a  way  station,  and  spend 
an  afternoon  with  an  Indian  in  a  canoe,  learning 
the  names  of  the  birds,  the  trees,  and  the  monkeys, 
as  we  glided  through  tangles  of  gorgeous  foliage. 
For  a  stranger  to  be  interested  in  one's  native 
tongue  is  always  a  pleasing  kind  of  flattery.  Be- 
fore long  I  was  welcomed  everywhere.  In  less 
than  six  months,  I  could  hold  my  own  in  ordinary 
conversation  in  Spanish,  German,  French,  and 
Portuguese.  I  was  just  beginning  to  take  some 
kind  of  interest  in  my  surroundings,  and  to  plan 
understandingly  and  hopefully  for  the  future, 
when  Broadbent  again  appeared  on  the  scene,  and 
scattered  my  projects  to  the  winds. 

One  day  I  sat  at  the  dinner  table  in  the  hotel  — 
the  Europa.  I  was  reading,  or  rather  trying  to 
read,  out  of  a  book.  Chico,  the  waiter,  had  just 
left  the  room  with  an  armful  of  dishes.  My  super- 
intendent, sleeping  off  the  effects  of  his  afternoon 
tipples,  was  in  the  next  room,  snoring  ponder- 
ously. The  guests  had  all  departed  and,  but  for 
the  rats  that  now  and  then  jumped  up  on  the 
table  and  made  off  with  a  morsel  of  food,  I  was 
alone.  It  was  the  fever-time  of  the  year,  and  as  I 
was  suffering  from  a  bad  headache  I  was  a  little 
uneasy  about  my  physical  condition;  and,  besides, 
I  was  at  the  lowest  ebb  of  mental  depression.  The 


LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA      57 

satisfaction  I  derived  from  my  studies  was,  at 
best,  a  commercial  one;  otherwise,  so  far  as  pro- 
gress was  concerned,  I  was  absolutely  a  failure. 

It  was  my  eighteenth  birthday.  The  daylight 
was  fading.  I  closed  my  book  and,  hearing  a  faint 
noise,  I  raised  my  eyes.  Broadbent  emerged  from 
the  superintendent's  room,  crossed  the  hallway, 
and  hurried  down  the  stairs.  Tucked  closely 
under  his  arm  was  the  superintendent's  hand-bag 
containing,  as  I  well  knew,  the  collections  for  the 
day  —  some  thousands  of  milreis.  I  rushed  after 
him  down  the  stairway,  and  into  the  street. 
As  I  was  turning  the  first  corner,  some  one  halted 
abruptly,  or  I  ran  into  some  one,  who  gave  me  a 
blow  on  the  head  that  sent  me  sprawling  into  the 
gutter. 

When  I  awoke,  I  was  in  bed  in  the  hotel.  The 
room  was  crowded  with  policemen  and  others; 
Broadbent  was  among  them.  I  accused  him  of 
committing  the  robbery.  The  police  received  this 
intelligence  as  a  joke,  everybody  smiled,  and  some 
one  remarked,  "He  is  out  of  his  head."  Then  a 
burly  negro  came  forward  and  informed  the 
police  that  in  turning  the  corner  I  had  interfered 
with  a  combat  of  clubs,  in  which  he  was  engaged, 
and  that  I  had  received  a  whack  on  the  head 
that  was  intended  for  his  adversary.  This  explan- 
ation was  entirely  satisfactory  to  the  police,  al- 
though the  money  was  not  forthcoming.    Then 


58      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST, 

Broadbent  almost  shouted,  "That  boy  has  the 
yellow  fever." 

In  two  seconds  the  room  was  deserted.  I  leave 
the  problem  of  the  headache  and  fever  symptoms, 
the  apparition  of  Broadbent  on  the  stairway,  the 
robbery,  the  affair  at  the  corner  of  the  street,  and 
the  statement  of  the  negro,  to  psychologists  to 
unravel.  As  for  me,  I  lay  on  my  cot  absolutely 
deserted  until  noon  the  next  day,  when  a  doctor 
appeared.  Later  the  boys  in  the  office  got  together 
and  sent  a  nurse  to  my  assistance.  At  the  end  of 
the  second  day  I  entered  the  fatal  stage,  and 
began  to  sink  rapidly.  The  coffin  was  ordered. 
Later  on  I  paid  for  it.  But  doctors  and  others 
were  mistaken.  I  fairly  hovered  on  the  brink, 
as  they  told  me  afterwards,  and  then  made  a  most 
unlooked-for  rally.  In  less  than  a  week  I  was  out 
of  danger.  Meantime,  however,  in  a  fit  of  delirium 
I  had  unmercifully  belabored  my  nurse  with  a  pil- 
low, and  in  her  place  a  professional  attendant  was 
secured,  a  man  whose  name  was  Peixoto. 

I  cannot  introduce  Peixoto  to  my  readers  with- 
out an  apology  or  an  explanation  of  some  kind. 
Physically  and  mentally  he  was  a  strange  phe- 
nomenon, in  appearance  and  faculties  an  almost 
unbelievable  creature.  Mentally  he  was  a  modern 
reproduction  of  Timon  of  Athens,  in  his  last  and 
misanthropic  stage.  Later  on  we  shall  glance  at 
his  pedigree  and  history;  for  the  present,  however. 


LIFE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  A^IERICA      59 

it  will  suffice  to  say  that  he  was  an  albino  — 
neither  a  white  nor  a  black  man,  but  a  cream- 
colored  creature  of  medium  height,  athletic  build, 
and  dignified  carriage.  In  his  behavior  as  a  nurse 
he  was  methodical  and  strong,  yet  as  gentle  and 
considerate  as  a  woman.  He  had  one  curious 
habit.  When  not  engaged  in  conversation,  he 
nibbled  incessantly  on  his  lower  lip,  as  any  man 
will  once  in  a  while,  when  nursing  a  grief  or  an 
injury.  Peixoto  had  both  —  he  was  a  social  out- 
cast. His  hair  was  white,  short,  curly,  and  silky, 
and  it  grew  in  tufts;  his  nose  was  flat,  his  cheek- 
bones were  high,  and  his  skin  a  sickly  cream-color. 
The  pupils  of  his  eyes  were  red,  and  the  parts 
that  should  have  been  white  were  pink.  Apart 
from  this  he  possessed  a  tremendous  personality, 
and  that  was  just  where  the  trouble  came  in. 
Brazilian  society  had  no  use  for  this  man  except 
as  a  caretaker  in  cases  of  virulent  disease.  This 
fact  cut  him  to  the  soul,  and  all  humanity  was  to 
him,  very  naturally,  a  gigantic  farce. 

As  regards  my  own  sickness,  complications  set 
in,  and  I  was  confined  to  the  hotel  for  nearly  three 
months.  During  this  period  Peixoto  was  my  con- 
stant companion.  I  was  in  my  eighteenth  year, 
physically  and  mentally  a  weakling  at  the  time. 
Peixoto  was  in  the  prime  of  life.  To  convert  me 
to  his  way  of  thinking  and  of  judging  humanity, 
he  extended  himself.  In  regard  to  what  followed. 


60      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

I  have  no  excuse  or  justification  to  offer.  For  over 
two  months  I  Hstened  to,  and  absorbed,  a  good 
deal  of  Peixoto's  philosophy.  It  was  founded  on 
the  personal  annihilation  to  which  society  and 
the  universe  had  condemned  him,  and  it  all  cul- 
minated in  the  homeless  and  hopeless  conclusion 
that  there  was  no  God.  Under  his  tutelage  my 
religious  convictions  seemed  to  be  smothered,  al- 
though it  was  only  a  storm  through  which  I  was 
passing.  Nevertheless,  when  I  left  the  hotel  I 
looked  out  upon  the  world,  to  some  extent, 
through  Peixoto's  eyes. 

Meanwhile,  Santos  had  become  an  impossible 
place  of  residence  for  me,  and  I  requested  and 
obtained  a  transfer  to  Bahia.  In  a  few  weeks 
Peixoto  followed  me.  Bahia  was  his  birthplace, 
to  which,  periodically,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  re- 
turning. It  was  a  time  when  all  the  world  was  talk- 
ing about  the  discovery  of  gold  and  diamonds  in 
South  Africa.  Peixoto  was  seriously  considering 
emigration  to  that  country,  where,  he  thought, 
among  the  savages,  perhaps  he  would  be  able  to 
find  some  kind  of  a  social  level;  or  where,  at  the 
worst,  as  a  filibuster  or  freebooter,  he  could  square 
accounts  with  creation  in  some  way. 

One  day  Peixoto  and  I  took  a  walk,  or  rather  a 
climb,  from  the  lower  to  the  upper  city.  As  you 
look  at  it  from  the  sea,  Bahia  has  the  appearance 
of  a  huge  perpendicular  rock.  Some  of  the  houses 


LITE  PROBLEMS  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA      61 

seem  to  be  up  among  the  clouds,  others  down  at 
the  water's  edge.  Peixoto  conducted  me,  by  a  cir- 
cuitous route,  to  a  convent  situated  in  a  narrow 
street  in  the  upper  section  of  the  city.  In  this 
convent,  he  explained  to  me,  he  had  been  brought 
up  and  educated. 

We  entered  the  convent  through  an  imposing 
archway,  and  passed  into  a  large  granite-walled 
hall,  at  one  end  of  which  was  a  heavily  barred 
grating,  and  back  of  that  a  smooth  stone  pave- 
ment extending  to  another  grating  through  which 
several  nuns  w^ere  passing  garlands  and  flowers 
made  of  feathers,  on  long  wooden  shovels,  to  pur- 
chasers who  made  their  wants  known  by  long- 
distance signs  at  the  outer  grating.  Thence  we 
passed  into  a  small  chapel  which  had  egress  to  the 
outside  world  by  means  of  a  long  and  very  gloomy 
corridor.  In  one  corner  of  the  chapel  there  was  a 
little  niche  or  alcove  in  which  was  a  cradle-shaped 
box.  A  rope  attached  to  this  cradle  passed  up 
through  a  wide  chimney-like  aperture  to  some 
chamber  above.  Peioxto  explained  to  me  in  detail 
the  significance  of  this  machinery.  The  cradle 
was  for  the  accommodation  of  abandoned  children 
whom,  w^th  utmost  secrecy,  the  depositors,  or 
parents, "wished  the  convent  to  adopt  and  educate. 
In  this  way,  and  in  this  very  place,  he,  Peixoto, 
had  made  his  first  appearance  in  human  society, 
and  this  was  practically  all  he  knew  of  his  own 
history  and  antecedents. 


62      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

Very  soon  after  this  visit  to  the  convent  Peixoto 
took  ship  for  South  Africa.  I  was  fated  to  meet 
him  again.  It  was  several  years  later,  in  the  midst 
of  a  fierce  campaign  which  the  British  and  their 
allies,  the  Zwasi  Kaffirs,  were  waging  against 
another  Kaffir  chieftain  in  the  northern  part  of 
the  Transvaal.  Peixoto  was  in  the  service  of  the 
Zwasis.  On  the  day  of  the  final  assault  on  the 
stronghold  of  the  enemy,  after  the  British  had 
dynamited  the  caves,  it  became  his  duty,  as  he 
informed  me,  to  intercept  the  survivors,  stab 
them,  and  throw  them  down  over  the  rocks.  He 
was  settling  his  account  with  creation  in  this  way. 
But  this  is  anticipating.  I  must  return  to  the 
narrative  of  my  own  personal  progress. 


Ill 

TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA 


At  the  outset  of  my  third  chapter  I  wish  to 
emphasize  the  fact  that  I  am  doing  my  best  to 
write,  not  simply  the  ups  and  downs  of  a  some- 
what adventurous  career,  but  the  plain  history  of 
a  passion. 

In  the  preceding  sections  of  my  story  I  have 
given  a  rough  yet  definite  description  of  the  soil  in 
which  this  passion  was  planted,  and  of  its  mani- 
festations and  behavior  when  first  it  became  con- 
scious of  its  surroundings  in  the  Highlands  of 
Scotland.  I  have  described  the  contact  of  my  in- 
dividualistic spirit  with  men  and  events  when 
I  was  about  to  leave  home;  later,  on  board  ship; 
and  finally,  during  a  sojourn  of  two  years  in  South 
America.  Before  concluding  the  story  of  my  expe- 
riences in  South  America,  however,  a  final  incident 
remains  to  be  noticed. 

Applying  its  lessons  to  my  own  progress,  the 
story  relates  specifically  to  the  character  and  influ- 
ence of  women.  My  experience  in  such  matters 
has  been  somewhat  unusual.  For  one  thing,  I  can 
just  remember  my  mother  on  her  death-bed.  As 


64      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

a  moral  handicap  the  significance  of  this  fact  is 
immeasurable.  Then,  again,  there  were  no  girls  in 
our  family,  no  sisters  for  companions  or  play- 
mates. 

Let  the  reasons  be  what  they  may,  as  I  grew  up, 
I  consistently  avoided  female  society.  But  this 
instinctive  disinclination  for  the  society  of  girls 
and  women  was  accompanied  by  the  most  spirit- 
ual ideas  in  regard  to  their  personalities  and  influ- 
ence. My  youthful  and  well-remembered  conclu- 
sions on  the  subject  are  plain  as  plain  can  be.  As 
a  growing  boy  it  never  occurred  to  me  that  any 
girl  or  woman  of  my  acquaintance  could  possibly 
be  less  than  perfect  in  the  workings  of  her  heart, 
in  the  details  of  her  daily  occupation,  or  in  mat- 
ters that  related  to  her  mission  as  a  sex.  My 
attitude  at  the  time  may  be  summed  up  in  two 
mottoes:  "I  worship,"  and,  "I  serve." 

But  there  comes  to  every  mortal  a  time  when 
youthful  dreams  must  submit  themselves  to  all 
sorts  of  practical  and  spiritual  tests.  In  my  case, 
the  first  clash  was  perhaps  the  most  memorable 
event  in  which  my  personality  has  ever  been 
called  upon  to  take  part.  On  the  occasion  to 
which  I  refer,  I  just  happened  to  get  close  enough 
to  the  heart  of  a  woman  to  enable  me  to  under- 
stand a  little  of  its  fundamental  character.  It  is 
one  of  those  unforgettable  links  that  still  connect 
this  most  absorbing  of  life  problems  with  my  boy- 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      65 

ish  dreams.  It  was  shortly  after  my  arrival  in 
Bahia  from  Santos.  She  was  a  married  woman. 
This  fact,  to  me  at  the  time,  had  not  the  slightest 
significance.  I  made  her  acquaintance  on  board 
ship,  on  the  way  over  from  Europe.  She  was  then 
the  young  bride  of  one  of  my  fellow  clerks.  Unfor- 
tunately he  was  the  flimsiest  kind  of  a  fellow,  and 
six  months  of  life  in  Bahia  were  suflScient  to  carry 
him  well  along  on  the  highway  to  perdition.  On 
my  arrival  in  Bahia  I  knew  nothing  about  this 
state  of  affairs.  However,  when  I  heard  that  the 
family  were  in  trouble  I  determined  to  call,  and 
after  a  while  I  found  them  in  poorly  furnished 
quarters  in  what  was  then  known  as  the  upper  city. 

At  the  time  of  my  first  visit  the  husband  was  in 
jail  and  the  young  wife  was  taking  care  of  her 
baby  girl  and  trying  to  keep  body  and  soul  to- 
gether with  the  assistance  of  a  boarder  or  two. 
Within  a  few  days  I,  too,  as  a  boarder,  was  ad- 
mitted into  the  family  circle. 

Readers  perhaps  will  imagine  that  I  am  about  to 
give  a  simple  variation  of  an  old  story.  Be  this  as 
it  may,  the  significance  of  the  experience  to  me 
personally  was  incalculable. 

With  my  advent  the  young  wife  seemed  to  ac- 
quire a  fresh  supply  of  courage.  We  soon  became 
attached  to  each  other  in  a  quiet,  sociable  way, 
which  easily  led  to  the  exchanging  of  confidences. 
Apart  from  her  expressed  gratitude,  I  knew  abso- 


66      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

lutely  nothing  about  her  afiFections,  except  as  they 
shone  in  her  face  and  were  manifested  in  her 
motherly  devotion.  And  yet  it  is  true  that  as  the 
days  went  by  the  situation  developed  most  de- 
lightfully in  impossible  directions,  as  it  were,  un- 
til the  current  of  other  affairs  hurried  it  along  to  a 
climax. 

Before  leaving  Santos  I  had  written  home  to 
make  inquiries  in  regard  to  the  situation  and 
prospects  in  South  Africa,  and  very  soon  I  re- 
ceived word  that  arrangements  had  been  made 
which  would  enable  me  to  join  a  party  of  young 
fellows  who  intended  to  leave  England  on  a  cer- 
tain date.  Finally  the  time  came  for  me  to  pack  up 
and  take  leave. 

So  one  morning  I  prepared  to  walk  out  of  my 
boarding-house  for  the  last  time.  To  me  the  oc- 
casion, in  minutest  detail,  is  unforgettable.  In 
thinking  it  all  over  from  a  distance,  one  recog- 
nizes, with  a  clearer  understanding  than  at  the 
time,  the  significance  of  such  events  in  the  life- 
journey  of  the  individual.  Every  once  in  a  while 
in  their  lives  people  focus  in  this  way  and  take 
stock  of  spiritual  progress.  The  picture  in  my 
mind  of  the  final  scene  and  leave-taking  is  some- 
thing like  this :  — 

A  ladder  of  houses  on  a  cliff -like  street.  The 
city  sparkling  in  the  first  glow  of  the  early  morn- 
ing sun.  The  harbor  beneath,  and,  in  the  distance, 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      67 

dotted  with  ships.  Inside,  a  home,  a  flower-decked 
parlor,  a  child  in  a  high  chair  pounding  lustily  on 
the  table  with  little  fists.  The  young  mother  sor- 
row-tossed, yet  struggling  to  speak  cheerfully. 
The  face  pale  as  pale  can  be,  yet  gentle  and  firm 
beyond  description.  The  hand  extended,  and  the 
words  "Good-bye"  at  the  point  of  utterance. 
Then  suddenly,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  the 
features  relax,  tears  stream,  and  the  little  body 
collapses.  Just  enough  strength  was  left  to  enable 
her  to  rush  from  the  room. 

As  for  me,  I  stood  there  like  a  fool,  bereft  of  mo- 
tion, almost  of  thought.  Quickly,  however,  I  came 
to  my  senses.  A  situation  hitherto  undreamed  of, 
yet  actually  rehearsed  for  two  or  three  months  in 
simplest  everyday  intercourse,  dawned  upon  me. 
From  her  side  and  mine,  all  at  once,  I  understood. 
I  realized  that  to  prolong  my  stay,  or  to  call  her 
back,  would  be  sacrilege.  Nevertheless,  even  to- 
day, I  cannot  easily  account  to  myself  for  what  fol- 
lowed. I  turned  to  leave  the  house,  and  then  the 
unutterable  dilemma  in  my  heart  took  refuge  in 
action.  I  opened  my  purse  and  counted  out  upon 
the  table,  in  sovereigns,  the  half  of  its  contents. 
And  that  was  the  end  of  it  all. 

n 

The  scene  now  changes  to  South  Africa.  But 
before  I  begin  the  narrative  of  my  travels  and  ex- 


68      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

perience  in  that  country,  a  word  or  two  should  be 
said  regarding  my  aim  and  intentions  in  steering 
my  course  in  such  a  strange  direction. 

To  begin  with,  of  course,  there  was  the  roving, 
adventurous  spirit  tucked  away  in  my  heredity, 
added  to  the  disgust  which  I  had  acquired  for  my 
life  and  surroundings  in  South  America.  Then, 
again,  there  was  the  ever-present  necessity  of 
earning  a  living  somehow  and  somewhere;  and  on 
top  of  all  these  considerations  there  came  an  en- 
thusiastic invitation  from  a  brother  who  was  al- 
ready in  Africa,  and  who,  at  the  time  he  wrote,  was 
doing  remarkably  well  at  the  Pilgrim's  Rest  Gold- 
Fields.  Just  what  I  was  going  to  do  when  I  got 
there  was  to  be  left  altogether  to  circumstances. 

In  the  second  place,  a  preliminary  word  or  two 
of  explanation  is  due  in  regard  to  the  period  at 
which  I  appeared  on  the  African  scene;  and  a  very 
brief  sketch  or  reminder  of  a  few  of  the  histori- 
cal events  which  signalized  this  period  and  with 
which,  here  and  there,  I  was  in  close  touch,  will 
certainly  not  be  out  of  place. 

In  those  days  there  were  no  railroads  either  in 
Natal  or  the  Transvaal,  and  the  ox- wagon  was  the 
most  important  single  feature  of  African  life.  The 
Transvaal  Republic,  when  first  I  entered  the  ter- 
ritory in  the  year  1877,  was  in  a  state  of  commer- 
cial and  political  anarchy,  principally  from  a  lack 
of  funds  necessary  to  enable  the  farmers  to  con- 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      69 

tinue  their  campaign  against  the  Kaffirs.  Presid- 
ent Burgers  and  his  executive  were  in  despair  and 
the  Republic  was  in  a  state  of  hopeless  bankruptcy 
when,  on  April  12,  1877,  at  Pretoria,  Sir  Theo- 
philus  Shepstone,  armed  with  the  necessary  au- 
thority from  the  British  Government,  annexed 
the  country  as  British  territory. 

The  return  of  more  prosperous  conditions,  how- 
ever, aroused  the  Boers  to  renewed  consciousness 
of  their  political  subjection,  and  very  soon,  under 
the  stupid  and  autocratic  handling  of  the  situa- 
tion by  British  administrators,  the  old  sores  were 
reopened,  and  the  war-spirit,  nursed  by  the  cau- 
tious and  astute  policy  of  Paul  Kruger,  who  was 
at  the  head  of  the  new  movement,  spread  from 
farm  to  farm  until  it  was  fearlessly  supported  by 
nine  tenths  of  the  population. 

At  intervals  following  the  annexation  in  1877, 
came  the  Zulu  War,  which  included  the  disaster 
at  Isandlwana,  the  death  of  Prince  Napoleon,  the 
victory  of  Ulundi,  and  the  capture  of  Cetewayo. 
Then,  later,  the  campaign  against  the  Kaffir  chief, 
Sekukuni,  in  the  north  of  the  Transvaal,  was  un- 
dertaken, and  this  again  was  followed  in  1880  by 
the  outbreak  of  the  first  Boer  war  of  Independ- 
ence, with  the  battle  of  Majuba  Hill,  and  the  re- 
cession of  the  Transvaal  to  the  Boers  by  the 
Gladstone  Government,  in  1881. 
,   It  was  at  the  beginning  of  this  string  of  histori- 


70      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

cal  events  that  I  made  my  way  into  the  Trans- 
vaal, and  in  the  midst  of  these  scenes  I  Hved  and 
moved  about  for  over  three  years  among  the 
Boers  and  the  Kaffirs. 

While  the  events  I  have  mentioned  had  but 
little  direct  connection  with  me  and  my  fortunes, 
they  form  a  sort  of  historical  framework  inside  of 
which  I  moved  up  and  down  and  formed  personal 
opinions  in  regard  to  policies  and  peoples.  In 
order  to  emphasize  my  personal  relationship  to 
these  affairs  and  to  these  peoples,  I  think  the  best 
way  will  be  to  give  a  series  of  detached  pictures  of 
my  African  life  and  experience  and  to  comment 
upon  them  by  the  way. 

Ill 

On  the  journey  from  South  America  to  the 
Transvaal  I  halted  for  a  day  or  two  in  Cape 
Town.  Then  I  moved  northward  and  spent  a  few 
weeks  in  the  colony  of  Natal,  where  I  happened  to 
meet  two  men  who  took  more  than  a  passing  in- 
terest in  me  and  my  problems.  The  first  was 
Rider  Haggard.  At  that  time  he  was  secretary  to 
the  governor.  Haggard,  like  myself,  was  then  in 
the  making  stage,  and  already  his  conversation 
was  bristling  with  the  "He,"  "She,"  and  "Jess" 
of  his  novels.  With  Haggard's  assistance  I  re- 
ceived an  introduction  to  one  of  the  most  notable 
men  of  the  period  in  that  or  any  other  country. 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      71 

Bishop  Colenso.  He  was  one  of  those  persecuted 
forerunners  of  religious  liberty.  At  the  same  time 
he  was  universally  recognized  as  the  great  peace- 
loving  arbitrator  between  the  Kaffirs,  the  Boers, 
and  the  British.  Three  or  four  times  I  met  him  at 
his  home,  amid  dream-like  surroundings,  flowers 
and  hedgerows  and  gorgeous  vegetation,  a  grand 
old  man  with  a  retinue  of  stately  ring-crowned 
Zulus  for  servitors  and  errand  boys.  He  seemed 
to  be  devoting  his  declining  years  to  the  material 
and  spiritual  interests  of  a  little  village  of  dark- 
skinned  mission  children.  For  the  first  time  in 
my  life,  I  met  a  man  who  listened  to  my  story, 
gave  me  much  practical  and  spiritual  advice,  and 
sent  me  on  my  way  with  renewed  courage. 

At  this  point  in  my  narrative  I  may  as  well  say 
that,  in  my  mind  at  the  time,  my  personal  mission 
in  Africa  was  clearly  understood.  At  the  first  en- 
counter, in  South  America  especially.  Society  and 
I  had  made  the  poorest  kind  of  connection.  The 
rough-and-tumble  childhood,  the  religion  of  John 
Knox,  the  discipline  of  the  "taws,"  and  the  ster- 
ling influence  of  vigorous  and  healthy  environ- 
ment in  youth,  had  received  a  palpable  setback. 
Hitherto  Society  had  been  confining  me  in  many 
ways;  I  was  anxious  to  grow  in  a  physical  direc- 
tion especially,  and  for  that  reason  the  prospect 
of  a  few  years  in  Africa  appealed  to  me.  At  the 
same  time,  both  intellectually  and  religiously,  I 


72      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

was  holding  my  own.  While  I  still  remained  stead- 
fast to  religious  fundamentals,  the  meaning  of  re- 
ligion in  my  mind,  as  well  as  its  centre  of  gravity, 
was  changing. 

Of  course,  apart  from  this  philosophy  of  life, 
there  was,  at  all  times,  the  problem  of  my  ma- 
terial interests.  Never  in  my  life,  however,  have  I 
had  any  schemes  for  the  accumulation  of  money, 
and  least  of  all  while  I  was  in  Africa.  I  was  pos- 
sessed with  a  craving  for  knowledge,  excitement, 
and  personal  expression.  My  mind  was  twenty 
years  ahead  of  my  experience.  The  problem  for 
me  would  have  been  the  same  in  any  country  — 
it  was  simply  to  find  myself.  In  Africa  as  in  South 
America  I  continued  to  follow  my  individualistic 
programme,  and  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  my 
conclusions  in  regard  to  people  and  conditions 
were  derived  not  from  philosophy  or  reading,  but 
from  a  discussion  of  live  issues  at  camp-fires  with 
indignant  Kaffirs  whose  kraals  had  been  sacked, 
and  on  wagon-seats  with  sturdy  Boers  whose 
everlasting  theme  was  personal  and  national 
independence. 

I  can  only  refer  in  passing  to  the  period  of  my 
initiation  among  these  African  scenes  and  people. 
In  five  or  six  months  to  become  fairly  expert  in 
handling  a  wagon-whip  and  in  spanning  oxen,  in 
horsemanship,  hunting  and  rifle-shooting,  and 
roughing  it  in  general,  was  a  very  simple  process 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      73 

for  a  fellow  at  my  age;  but  to  become  conversa- 
tionally at  home  among  Kaffirs  and  Boers,  and  to 
a  slight  extent  among  Hottentots  and  tongue- 
snapping  or  '  click  '-speaking  Bushmen,  in  a  little 
over  a  year,  was  an  achievement  that  can  be 
comprehended  only  by  those  who  possess  a  most 
retentive  memory,  and  who  from  childhood  have 
been  passionately  diligent  and  inquisitive  in  the 
study  of  languages.  To  me  in  Africa,  this  facility 
in  languages  was  not  only  an  ever-present  and  all- 
absorbing  occupation,  —  it  proved  also  to  be  the 
point  of  contact,  sympathetically  taken  advant- 
age of  in  every  way,  that  enabled  me  to  get  un- 
usually close  to  the  hearts  and  the  homes  of  those 
peoples,  both  black  and  white. 

As  illustrations  of  my  African  experiences  I 
have  in  mind  a  number  of  characteristic  scenes  or 
word-pictures.  The  first  is  that  of  a  transport- 
rider  or  wagon-driver.  With  a  wagon  and  a  span 
of  sixteen  or  eighteen  oxen,  at  different  times  I 
took  loads  of  merchandise  from  the  coast  across 
the  Free  State  or  the  Transvaal,  to  Kimberley, 
Pretoria,  or  the  Gold  Fields.  In  those  early  days  a 
trip  of  this  description  in  dry  weather  over  the 
flats,  which  in  places  were  simply  black  with 
herds  of  blesboks,  gnus,  and  zebras,  was  a  sort  of 
long-continued  picnic;  but  when  you  got  into  the 
swamps,  or  breasted  a  range  of  mountains,  it  soon 
turned  into  a  heroic  and  sometimes  into  a  desper- 


74      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

ate  undertaking.  Then  it  became  a  supreme  test 
of  lungs  and  limbs  and  courage.  Winding  up 
through  dangerous  gorges  and  over  rocky  heights, 
this  creaking  Transvaal  buck- wagon,  the  forerun- 
ner of  civilization,  dragged  its  perilous  way.  Its 
string  of  straining  and  panting  oxen,  every  back 
on  the  hump,  every  nose  within  an  inch  of  the 
ground,  goaded  to  the  limit  of  exertion  by  the  re- 
verberating cracks  of  a  forty-foot  whip,  was,  to 
me,  an  important  element  in  a  scene  of  physical 
splendor.  And  then  at  sundown,  when  we  out- 
spanned  our  cattle,  cooked  our  food,  smoked  our 
pipes,  and  discussed  the  day's  doings  round  the 
camp-fires  with  Boers  and  Kaffirs  from  other 
wagons,  as  they  happened  to  visit  us,  I,  at  any 
rate,  amid  these  scenes,  soon  became  aware  that 
Nature  herself  had  taken  me  in  hand,  and  that 
there  was  room  in  my  heart  for  all  manner  of  hu- 
man sympathies;  and  that  certainly,  if  I  could 
have  had  my  way,  the  whites  and  the  blacks  in 
South  Africa  would  have  worked  out  their  social 
and  political  problems  without  a  suspicion  of 
bloodshed.  But  the  collective  interests  of  nations 
look  upon  Africa  in  a  different  light.  I  was  soon 
led  to  observe  that,  so  far  as  Africa  was  con- 
cerned, the  interests  of  human  society  on  the 
whole,  and  ideas  of  social  justice  in  particular, 
were  represented  for  the  most  part  by  shiploads 
of  rum  and  rifles,  by  the  debauching  of  KaflBr  life. 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      75 

the  almost  fiendish  search  for  gold  and  diamonds, 
and  the  harrying  of  the  Boers  from  the  Cape  to 
the  Zambesi. 

On  my  first  trip  with  a  wagon  and  oxen  I 
shipped  as  a  sort  of  "dead-head,"  learning  the 
business.  My  second  venture  was  with  my  own 
outfit.  The  route,  with  a  load  of  miscellaneous 
merchandise,  was  from  Durban  in  Natal  to  Beth- 
lehem in  the  Orange  Free  State.  I  hired  a  driver 
for  the  trip,  a  good-natured  mission  Kaffir.  His 
name  was  Grumpy.  He  could  handle  a  whip,  cook 
a  meal,  speak  English  after  a  fashion,  swear, 
drink,  and  steal  upon  occasion  with  the  best  of  his 
profession.  In  the  matter  of  stealing,  however,  he 
drew  the  line  at  his  own  master.  To  me  he  was  in- 
corruptibly  honest.  So  far  as  cheating  and  gen- 
eral iniquity  were  concerned,  he  never  tired  of  re- 
minding me  that  he  had  been  educated  in  a  school 
of  experts,  that  is,  of  white  men.  I  shall  never  for- 
get the  first  time  Grumpy  reminded  me  of  this 
fact.  His  first  month's  wages  consisted  of  a  hand- 
ful of  silver  coins,  among  which  there  happened 
to  be  a  florin,  that  is,  a  two-shilling  piece.  Taking 
my  ignorance  for  granted,  he  held  the  coin  up  be- 
fore me  and  looked  at  if  half  sneeringly,  as  if  it 
contained  a  dangerous  or  snake-like  quality.  Then 
grinning  from  ear  to  ear  he  said,  "Baas,  that's  a 
Scotchman."  Of  course  I  demanded  an  explana- 
tion, and  his  story  substantially  was  as  follows:  — 


76      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

"When  I  was  still  at  my  kraal  in  Swaziland,  a 
number  of  years  ago,  the  boys  coming  home  from 
the  Diamond  Field  brought  news  that  they  had 
been  cheated.  You  must  understand,"  Grumpy 
explained,  "our  boys  are  particularly  fond  of  sil; 
ver  coins.  Bulk  means  a  good  deal  in  Kaffirland. 
In  buying  cows  and  swapping  them  for  wives  there 
is  nothing  like  a  heap  of  silver  coins  to  count  and 
shuffle  and  squabble  about.  But  you  see,  Baas,  at 
that  time  the  green  Kaffirs  did  n't  understand  the 
difference  in  value,  or  notice  the  difference  in  size, 
between  a  florin  and  a  half-crown  piece.  Well, 
once  upon  a  time,  hundreds  of  these  Kaffir  boys 
had  been  working  all  winter  long,  road-making 
and  trench-digging  near  Kimberley,  and  when  the 
time  came,  the  contractor,  who  was  a  Scotchman, 
paid  them  their  wages  for  the  most  part  in  florins, 
but  counted  them  as  half-crown  pieces,  and  pock- 
eted the  difference.  When  the  trick  was  discovered 
the  contractor  had  departed.  But  Kaffirs  never 
forget  an  injury  of  this  kind;  consequently,  ever 
since,  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  Kaffir- 
land,  a  florin  is  known  as  a  Scotchman." 

Before  long  Grumpy  and  I  became  fast  friends, 
and  not  once  did  he  abuse  the  trust  I  placed  in 
him.  In  posting  me  on  the  geography  of  the  coun- 
try, on  the  methods  of  handling  the  oxen,  and  on 
the  other  details  of  wagon-life,  his  services  were 
invaluable.    At  the  same  time  no  schoolmaster 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      77 

could  possibly  have  been  more  patient  or  have 
taken  more  pleasure  in  explaining  to  me  the 
proper  intonation  and  meaning  of  words  in  his 
Kaffir  vocabulary. 

Grumpy  and  his  companions  were  great  smok- 
ers. On  the  trek  at  night,  after  the  oxen  had  been 
securely  fastened  to  the  yokes,  it  was  customary 
for  the  boys  to  construct  in  the  soil  a  sort  of  tun- 
nel about  two  inches  high  and  ten  or  twelve  feet  in 
length  and  fill  it  with  water.  At  one  end  the  pipe- 
bowl  was  inserted,  at  the  other  end  the  mouth- 
piece. Then  the  boys,  lying  flat  on  their  stomachs, 
rolled  over  in  turns  and  inhaled  great  gulps  of  the 
intoxicating  fumes.  At  such  times,  after  I  came  to 
understand  their  language  in  some  degree,  I  de- 
lighted to  retire  to  my  bunk  on  top  of  the  wagon- 
load  and  listen,  sometimes  until  midnight,  to  the 
orations,  all  about  terrible  fights  and  prodigious 
feasts,  with  which  the  boys  regaled  each  other  be- 
tween their  turns  at  the  pipe. 

But  this  first  trip  into  the  Free  State  with 
Grumpy  as  factotum  was  particularly  memorable 
on  account  of  an  unfortunate  experience  on  my 
first  hunting  expedition. 

We  had  successfully  scaled  the  Drakensburg 
Mountains  and  were  encamped  one  afternoon  at  a 
drift  of  the  Wilge  River,  when  a  couple  of  Boers 
came  along  and  invited  me  to  go  hunting  with 
them  for  an  hour  or  two.  I  possessed  a  good  rifle 


78      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

and  a  splendid  shooting  pony,  so  without  delay 
we  set  out  in  search  of  the  game.  And  game 
enough  there  was,  to  be  sure.  We  were  hardly  out 
of  sight  of  our  wagons  when,  cantering  over  a 
"rise,"  we  came  in  plain  view  of  a  great  herd  of 
blesbok,  the  head  of  the  column  close  at  hand, 
with  a  long  string  behind  it  stretching  out,  it 
seemed,  for  miles,  clear  to  the  horizon.  Catching 
sight  of  us,  the  mass  as  with  one  accord  got  under 
way  and,  headed  by  a  number  of  leaders,  tore 
across  the  veldt  directly  in  front  of  us  in  a  terrific 
stampede.  My  companions  knew  just  what  to  do 
under  the  circumstances,  and  before  I  had  suf- 
ficiently recovered  from  the  excitement  of  the  gal- 
lop to  be  able  to  aim  straight,  five  or  six  of  the 
animals  had  already  succumbed  to  their  skillful 
marksmanship.  It  was  my  first  hunt  and  I  sup- 
pose I  was  crazy  with  excitement;  nevertheless, 
ever  since  I  have  always  been  heartily  ashamed  of 
my  almost  fiendish  behavior  that  afternoon  as 
a  sportsman.  I  had  always  supposed  that  if 
I  should  fire  deliberately  at  a  house  or  a  mountain, 
I  could  manage  to  hit  it  in  some  way.  But  after  fir- 
ing shot  after  shot  as  fast  as  I  could  ram  the  cart- 
ridges into  my  rifle,  at  a  solid  mass  of  galloping 
blesboks,  I  soon  began  to  wonder  what  on  earth 
had  become  of  the  bullets.  Apart  from  the  bles- 
boks there  was  actually  nothing  in  sight  to  aim  at 
but  the  skv. 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      79 

Meanwhile  the  Boers,  continuing  the  hunt  in 
their  own  way,  aiming  at  animals,  not  at  herds, 
had  galloped  off  in  different  directions  while  the 
bewildered  blesboks,  cut  up  into  panic-stricken 
squadrons  by  the  galloping  hunters,  were  tearing 
across  the  plains  in  different  directions,  for  all  the 
world  like  so  many  vanishing  dust-storms.  In  less 
than  ten  minutes  from  the  time  the  herd  had  been 
sighted  I  stood  alone  on  the  veldt  at  the  side  of 
my  horse,  bemoaning  my  luck,  and  pondering  on 
the  next  move. 

But  no,  I  was  not  alone  after  all.  On  a  hillock 
some  two  hundred  yards  away  I  sighted  a  solitary 
bull  blesbok.  He  was  calmly  surveying  me  and 
my  pony  in  the  most  inquisitive  manner.  "Going 
to  drop  dead  in  a  minute  or  two,"  I  said  to  my- 
self. So  I  waited.  I  had  only  one  cartridge  left  in 
my  belt  and  I  might  need  that,  I  soliloquized,  to 
kill  something  else  on  the  way  back  to  the  wagons. 
But  it  seems  the  old  ram  on  the  hillock  had  plans 
of  his  own,  for  suddenly  he  wheeled  round  and 
ambled  slowly  away,  whipping  the  air  with  a 
broken  and  dangling  hind  leg.  In  a  second  I  was 
in  the  saddle  and  after  him.  But  the  faster  I  gal- 
loped, the  nimbler  the  old  buck  became  on  his 
three  legs.  I  could  scarcely  believe  my  senses. 
He  could  trot  and  "triple"  and  gallop  at  will. 
But  if  I  could  n't  shoot  straight,  I  had  learned  as 
a  boy  to  ride  anything  and  everything  in  the  shape 


80      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

of  a  horse,  and  on  this  occasion  my  pony  was  a 
jewel  of  his  kind.  If  I  could  remember  them  I 
should  certainly  be  ashamed  to  give  the  details  of 
that  first  African  gallop  across  the  veldt,  dodging 
a  labyrinth  of  holes,  ant-hills,  and  boulders.  It 
was  a  cruel  errand.  That  pony  was  wing-footed, 
eagle-eyed,  and  remorseless;  the  game  old  blesbok, 
lumbering  along  ahead  of  us  and  now  at  last  eas- 
ing up  a  little,  was  doomed.  In  the  end  he  sim- 
ply halted,  faced  us,  and  awaited  our  approach. 
The  tragedy  was  then  completed  with  my  last 
bullet. 

But  the  end  of  the  adventure  was  not  yet.  The 
primitive  methods  whereby  in  the  dusk  of  the 
evening  I  beheaded  and  skinned  that  animal 
would  better  not  be  described.  Let  it  suflBce  to 
say  that  in  a  few  minutes  I  started  on  my  return 
to  the  wagons  with  the  hide  and  the  hind  quar- 
ters of  the  blesbok  securely  fastened  behind  my 
saddle. 

But  I  had  never  given  a  thought  to  the  course 
I  had  taken  in  my  gallop  across  the  veldt.  I  kept 
on  and  on,  and  before  long  it  grew  dark  and  some- 
what cold.  So  I  dismounted,  and  after  thinking  it 
over,  I  knee-haltered  the  horse  and  let  him  go, 
crept  head  first  into  a  large  ant-bear  hole  for  a 
night's  lodging,  and  made  myself  as  comfortable 
as  was  possible  under  the  circumstances,  using  the 
blesbok  hide  for  a  blanket. 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      81 

The  night  was  dark  as  pitch.  Sleep  was  out  of 
the  question.  I  suppose  that  it  was  the  haunches 
and  the  raw  hide  that  attracted  the  creatures,  but 
before  long  it  really  seemed  as  if  I  had  settled 
down  in  a  village  of  wild  pigs  and  insulted  the 
whole  community.  To  begin  with,  squeaking  inces- 
santly, they  seemed  to  be  racing  round  and  round 
in  a  circle,  taking  me  for  its  centre.  Then  a  num- 
ber of  jackals,  drawing  nearer  and  nearer,  joined 
in  the  chorus.  But  I  soon  discovered  that  if  I  dis- 
liked the  noise  I  fairly  dreaded  the  silence.  Dur- 
ing the  quiet  spells  I  knew  that  something  was 
chewing  industriously  at  the  projecting  ends  of 
the  raw  hide  in  which  I  was  enveloped.  It  was 
hard  work  for  me  to  keep  kicking  incessantly,  but 
whenever  I  rested  for  a  minute  the  chewing  devel- 
oped into  vigorous  and  vicious  tugs,  the  signi- 
ficance of  which  it  was  easy  for  one  in  my  position 
to  appreciate. 

However,  I  kicked  the  night  through  in  safety, 
and  early  in  the  morning,  to  my  delight,  I  found 
my  horse  a  short  distance  away,  nibbling  con- 
tentedly at  his  breakfast. 

My  troubles,  however,  were  by  no  means  ended. 
I  spent  the  day  as  I  had  the  evening  before,  wan- 
dering on  and  on  without  sighting  a  farmhouse  or 
a  scrap  of  a  road.  Luckily  I  had  some  matches, 
and  at  noon  I  built  a  fire  and  had  some  blesbok 
steak  to  eat,  and  when  night  came  again,  the  blaze 


82      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

I  made  kept  the  jackals  and  pigs  at  a  distance.  The 
following  day,  the  third  after  leaving  my  wagons, 
I  was  rescued  in  a  curious  manner. 

Approaching  a  "krantz"  or  stony  hillock,  I  was 
leading  my  horse  through  the  high  grass,  when 
suddenly  right  in  front  of  me  up  jumped  a  little 
bit  of  a  Bushman  boy  about  three  feet  high,  and 
scampered  away  in  the  direction  of  the  krantz. 
Then  I  noticed  something  like  a  tent  on  the  hill- 
side, behind  which  the  little  oddity  took  refuge. 
In  another  minute  I  found  myself  in  the  presence 
of  a  Bushman  and  his  wife.  They  were  of  the  half- 
domesticated  variety.  The  man  could  speak  a 
few  Dutch  words  and  I  had  little  diflSculty  in  ex- 
plaining my  situation.  He  belonged  to  a  Free 
State  Boer,  but  at  the  time  was  on  a  pilgrimage  of 
some  kind  and  had  halted  for  the  day  to  doctor  a 
snake-bite  from  which  he  was  suffering.  After 
loading  their  stomachs  with  my  blesbok  meat, 
I  set  out  again  with  the  Bushman  as  guide.  Just 
before  sundown  we  came  in  sight  of  our  wagons. 
Grumpy  had  no  difficulty  in  persuading  me  that 
for  two  days  I  must  have  been  wandering  round 
in  a  circle. 

My  next  picture  has  the  Boers  for  its  centre- 
piece. For  a  while,  after  I  had  made  sufficient 
money  at  the  "transport"  business  to  enable  me 
to  trade  a  little  on  my  own  account,  I  made  my 
headquarters  in  the  Komati  district  on  a  farm. 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      83 

the  property  of  a  man  named  Prinsloo.  I  was  trad- 
ing at  the  time  and  making  trips  in  different  di- 
rections. In  all  that  region,  where  the  Steyn,  the 
Joubert,  and  the  Botha  families  predominated  and 
at  a  later  date  became  renowned  for  their  patriot- 
ism, there  was  no  such  hater  and  baiter  of  the 
British  as  this  man  Prinsloo.  And  not  without 
reason.  Being  too  old  himself  for  active  service, 
he  made  up  for  it  by  perpetually  rehearsing  his 
exploits  and  experience  to  the  rising  generation 
and  inspiring  it  with  his  heroic  spirit. 

In  the  struggle  in  South  Africa,  both  past  and 
to  come,  the  individuality  of  these  rugged  farm- 
ers was  at  stake.  As  the  Boer  looked  at  it,  and 
very  reasonably,  on  the  one  side  there  were  busi- 
ness and  imperial  interests,  backed  up  by  humbug 
diplomacy;  and  on  his  own  side  there  were  the 
simple  issues  of  his  home  and  his  national  exist- 
ence. Old  man  Prinsloo  was  not  only  saturated 
with  traditions  and  experiences  of  what  he  called 
British  tyranny,  but  his  own  family  had  a  per- 
sonal grievance  of  the  bitterest  nature.  He  was  by 
no  means  blind  to  the  benefits  of  civilization,  and 
being  fairly  well  educated,  he  had,  in  an  evil  day, 
sent  his  daughter  to  some  private  establishment 
at  the  Cape,  to  be  educated.  It  happened  to  be  a 
garrison  town  of  some  kind,  where  the  red-coats 
were  continually  coming  and  going.  He  lost  track 
of  his  child  and  that  is  all  the  outside  world  knew 


84      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

about  the  case;  but  everybody  understood  what 
had  happened,  and  what  was  happening  to  young 
girls  all  over  the  world,  especially  in  small  out-of- 
the-way  communities  where  scarlet  jackets  were 
in  camp  or  garrison.  I  have  heard  Africander  wo- 
men allude  to  it  under  their  breath  as  "the  curse 
of  the  redcoats."  With  this  private  affair  added 
to  the  national  issue,  Prinsloo's  rage  against  the 
British  was  simply  titanic. 

But  to  do  justice  to  him  and  to  account,  in  a 
measure,  for  my  personal  estimate  and  impres- 
sions of  these  Boers,  I  will  direct  attention  to  an- 
other side  of  his  character. 

One  evening  while  I  was  encamped  on  the  high 
veldt  which,  on  their  long  trips  from  the  Kaffir 
Lands  to  the  Diamond  Fields,  hundreds  of  natives 
were  at  all  times  crossing,  the  weather  took  a  most 
unusual  turn.  It  was  in  the  spring  of  the  year, 
when  all  over  these  fire-swept  and  blackened  flats 
little  tufts  of  green  grass  were  beginning  to  sprout. 
The  game  from  the  Bush  Lands  was  arriving  in 
long  strings  and  small  herds,  and  traveling  away 
to  the  southward.  On  the  evening  in  question  a 
snowstorm  of  unexampled  severity  —  in  fact 
snowstorms  were  almost  unheard  of  in  that  part 
of  the  country  —  swept  over  these  high  lands. 
That  night,  old  as  he  was,  Prinsloo  drove  round 
among  the  farms  in  the  district  and  collected  a 
large  party  of  his  friends  and  relations.    About 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      85 

one  o'clock  in  tlie  morning  the  party  arrived  at 
my  encampment.  For  the  most  part  the  men 
were  on  horseback,  but  there  were  also  two  or 
three  cape  carts  loaded  with  fuel  and  kettles  and 
coffee.  A  medley  of  voices  aroused  me  from  slum- 
ber with  cries  for  blankets  and  coffee,  with  which 
they  knew  I  was  well  supplied.  Then  Prinsloo 
himself  jerked  aside  the  canvas  curtain  from  the 
end  of  the  wagon  and  explained  to  me  that  the 
Kaffirs  on  the  Kimberley  highroad,  a  couple  of 
miles  away,  were  huddling  together  in  heaps  and 
freezing  to  death  by  the  score. 

It  did  not  take  the  party  long  to  get  under  way 
again.  Before  morning  every  Boer  in  the  district 
was  on  the  scene.  The  rescue  of  these  naked  un- 
fortunates on  that  snow-covered  highway  by 
Prinsloo  and  his  followers  is  the  most  pathetic  and 
one  of  the  most  humanly  gratifying  of  my  African 
memories. 

But  to  return  to  the  Prinsloo  farm.  One  day 
I  returned  from  a  short  trip  on  horseback  and 
alighted  at  the  farmhouse  door.  Prinsloo  himself 
came  out  and  assisted  me  in  caring  for  my  horse. 
For  some  time  I  had  been  trying  to  sell  him 
something  or  other,  but  on  this  occasion,  when 
I  broached  the  subject  as  we  were  entering  the 
house,  he  dismissed  the  matter  with  the  laconic 
reply,  "  After  the  war,  my  boy,  after  the  war." 
The  expression  "After  the  war,"  was  as  old  as  the 


86      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

first  trek  of  the  Boers  northward  from  the  Cape 
Colony.  It  came  in  very  handy  in  the  common 
affairs  of  life.  For  want  of  a  better  expression  or 
excuse,  domestic  arrangements,  building  opera- 
tions, or  perhaps  hunting  trips  and  such  like,  year 
in  and  year  out,  were  being  postponed  until  "after 
the  war."  In  this  way  its  absolute  certainty  was 
forever  kept  in  the  minds  of  the  people.  It  was  a 
sort  of  perpetual  echo  that  had  floated  down  the 
years  from  that  never-to-be-forgotten  day  at 
Slaghters  Nek  in  the  Free  State,  when  a  number 
of  Boer  prisoners  had  been  strung  up  like  crimin- 
als, and  their  wives  had  been  dragged  to  the  scene 
to  witness  the  execution,  as  a  lesson,  it  was  said, 
to  future  generations.  Among  children  the  words 
must  have  filtered  into  the  blood  somehow.  One 
day  I  asked  a  little  mite  of  a  patriot  to  run  on  an 
errand  for  me.  He  said  he  thought  his  mother 
might  not  approve  of  his  doing  so.  Personally, 
however,  he  did  n't  object,  and  while  he  would  n't 
do  it  just  then,  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  earn  a  few 
pennies  from  the  "red-necks"  in  this  way,  "after 
the  war." 

However,  Prinsloo  and  I  stepped  into  the  house 
and  found  therein  quite  a  company  of  young 
Boers,  sipping  coffee  and  smoking  their  pipes.  I 
understood  in  an  instant  that  important  business 
was  being  discussed,  and  it  did  not  take  Prinsloo 
long  to  enlighten  me.  I  had  barely  taken  my  seat. 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      87 

when  out  it  came,  straight  from  the  shoulder 
somewhat  in  this  way :  — 

"Look  here,  young  man,"  he  began,  "some  of 
these  fellows  say  they  like  you ;  they  think  you  are 
to  be  trusted.  At  any  rate,  when  you  sell  us  any- 
thing we  usually  get  what  we  bargain  for,  which  is 
no  small  recommendation.  But  what  I  have  to 
tell  you  now  is  that  affairs  in  our  country  have 
just  about  come  to  a  head,  and  as  you  have  seen  a 
good  deal  and  know  a  good  deal  about  our  cause 
in  this  district,  you  must  now  get  out  on  five 
minutes'  notice,  or  swear  in,  do  you  understand.'' 
Swearing  in,"  he  continued,  "doesn't  mean  that 
you  will  be  commanded  to  fight  for  us,  but  simply 
that  you  must  come  under  the  Boer  rule:  keep 
your  mouth  shut,  and  help  us  in  any  other  way 
you  may  choose." 

Under  these  conditions  it  did  n't  take  me  long 
to  "swear  in." 

That  same  night  there  was  a  big  gathering  of 
Boers  in  that  neighborhood.  It  was  nearly  mid- 
night when  they  separated.  On  the  following  day 
a  column  of  redcoats  on  the  main  wagon-road  to 
Pretoria  was  attacked  at  Bronkhurst  Spruit  by 
Boers  coming  from  nearly  every  direction.  The 
British  force  was  practically  annihilated.  Even 
old  man  Prinsloo  was  satisfied.  This  was  the  be- 
ginning of  the  first  Boer  struggle  for  independ- 
ence in  1880. 


88      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

The  next  is  a  scene  from  Kaffirland.  I  make  no 
apologies  for  my  defense  of  the  Kaffirs.  My  ad- 
miration for  these  people  at  that  time  is  easily 
understood.  The  original  human  stamp  was 
there,  and  you  could  study  its  manifestations  to 
your  heart's  desire.  I  confess  that  I  was  ignorant 
at  the  time,  and  lacking  in  social  experience; 
nevertheless,  I  was  mentally  at  war  with  the 
artificialities  and  barbarities  of  civilization,  and 
I  found  much  in  these  unadulterated  Kaffirs  to 
renew  my  faith  in  human  effort  and  human 
sympathies. 

Some  time  before  Sir  Garnet  Wolseley  ap- 
peared upon  the  scene  and  burned  their  villages, 
dynamited  their  caves,  and,  with  the  help  of  his 
Zwasi  allies,  massacred  the  population,  I  was  one 
day  swapping  salt  for  Kaffir  corn  at  the  "stadt" 
or  town  of  a  powerful  chief  of  the  Maccatees.  His 
name,  I  think,  was  Mampoor.  As  this  was  the 
third  or  fourth  visit  I  had  made  to  this  kraal, 
I  had  the  run  of  the  place,  and  was  on  friendly 
terms  with  the  chief.  On  the  occasion  I  am  now 
trying  to  describe  he  was  seated,  or  rather  squat- 
ting, in  front  of  his  hut.  He  was  one  of  the  finest- 
looking  specimens  I  ever  saw  of  what  was  called  a 
refugee  Zulu  Kaffir,  tall,  light-skinned,  stalwart, 
and  heavily  fleshed.  He  knew  how  to  combine 
business  with  pleasure  by  methods  unheard  of  in 
civilized   circles.    At  his  side,  jabbering  inces- 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      89 

santly,  was  a  buxom  intombi  or  maiden.  She  was 
next  in  order  as  his  bride-elect.  Once  in  a  while 
the  huge  frame  of  the  chief  quivered  and  gave  a 
sort  of  a  chuckle  as  he  happened  to  catch  and  en- 
joy one  of  her  flattering  remarks.  But  his  atten- 
tion, for  the  most  part,  was  concentrated  on  the 
eloquence  of  three  or  four  old  men,  minor  chiefs 
or  indunaSy  who  were  squatting  on  the  ground  in 
front  of  him. 

These  old  men  were  trying  to  persuade  the  chief 
to  provide  an  extra  ox  or  two  for  the  grand  cere- 
mony that  was  to  take  place  in  the  afternoon.  It 
is  the  picture  of  this  ceremony,  with  its  lessons  of 
courage,  endurance,  and  loyalty,  that  I  wish  now 
to  describe,  to  account  in  a  measure  for  the  fas- 
cination which,  I  confess,  KaflSr  life  had  for  me  at 
the  time. 

In  the  centre  of  the  town  was  a  sort  of  com- 
mon, or  large  inclosure.  At  the  time  I  entered, 
inside  the  palisades,  in  a  dense  ring  round  the 
edges,  the  whole  population  of  the  town  was 
massed.  In  a  reserved  centre  space,  a  huge  sacri- 
ficial ox  stood  at  bay  within  a  ring  of  glittering 
assegais.  Squatted  on  the  ground  at  a  short  dis- 
tance from  the  nose  of  the  animal  was  the  royal 
butcher,  horribly  painted  and  befeathered.  He 
was  addressing  the  animal  and  telling  him,  in  fit- 
ful screams,  just  what  he  was  going  to  do  to  him 
later  on,  and  once  in  a  while  the  butcher  changed 


90      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

his  tone  to  a  whine,  and  implored  his  victim,  when 
he  felt  the  tickle  of  the  assegai  in  his  heart,  not  to 
get  excited  about  it,  but  to  take  his  time  and  to 
fall  in  such  and  such  a  way,  with  nose  upturned 
to  the  wide  sky,  in  order  that  the  omens  might 
be  lucky,  and  the  flesh  untainted. 

And  just  then,  amid  a  terrific  din  of  kettle- 
drums and  the  shouts  of  thousands,  the  boys 
themselves,  glittering  and  handsome,  brandishing 
their  first  spears  and  shields,  entered  the  arena  in 
long  procession.  The  feast  was  in  their  honor. 
Their  young  hearts  were  filled  with  joy  and  tri- 
umph. The  period  of  trial  and  purification  was 
over.  For  a  whole  moon  period  they  had  been  out 
among  the  rocks  on  the  mountain-side,  for  the 
most  part  hungry  and  thirsty  and  blanketless. 
Their  taskmasters  had  never  let  up  on  them  for 
one  minute.  They  had  been  drilled  and  buffeted, 
hammered  with  knob-kerries  and  pricked  with 
assegais  and  hardened  up  to  the  very  acme  of 
daring  and  endurance.  They  were  now  to  enter 
manhood,  and  nothing  remained  but  the  triumph 
and  the  feasting.  One  after  another  these  war- 
bedecked  young  warriors  jumped  out  of  the  pro- 
cession into  the  arena  and  with  frantic  gestures 
and  marvelous  limb-play  told  the  assembly,  in 
passionate  language,  just  what  it  is  to  be  manly 
and  dexterous  and  stout-hearted.  Each  one  in 
turn  was  applauded. 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      91 

The  young  girls,  here  and  there  in  bunches, 
were  jabbering  incessantly  and  bubbling  over  with 
delight,  while  a  number  of  old  hags,  doubled  up, 
dried  up,  crooked  beyond  conception,  and  crazy 
with  excitement,  ambled  around  the  arena  in 
weird  and  trance-like  gyrations.  Then  suddenly 
the  centre  space  was  cleared  of  everything  but  the 
ox  and  the  dancing  butcher.  The  assegai  flashed 
in  the  sunlight,  and  the  feast  was  on. 

For  reasons,  then,  which  may  or  may  not  be 
apparent  to  my  readers,  I  was  in  sympathy  with 
those  dissatisfied  Boers  and  those  heathenish 
Kaffirs.  In  my  ignorance  of,  or  dissatisfaction 
with  Society,  I  suppose  I  failed  to  appreciate 
the  forced  relationship  that,  practically  speaking, 
existed  and  exists  between  profession  and  expe- 
diency. My  mind,  at  the  time,  was  honestly 
crammed  with  precepts,  proverbs,  texts,  and  old 
saws  about  liberty,  the  pursuit  of  happiness, 
human  rights  and  property  rights;  and  with 
these  fundamentals  forever  buzzing  in  my  brain, 
I  could  not,  for  the  life  of  me,  account  for  the 
conduct  of  Europeans  in  Africa.  From  my  point 
of  view,  then,  with  Christianity  as  a  background, 
the  excuse  for  the  African  wars  was  reduced  to  the 
simple  objections  of  the  ordinary  traveler,  that 
the  Kaffir,  as  a  rule,  lacked  soap,  and  the  Boer,  as 
a  rule,  forgot  to  shave. 
.  It  was  at  this  stage  of  my  mental  and  physical 


92      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

experience  in  Africa  that  I  met  a  certain  indi- 
vidual, and  immediately  my  whole  line  of  thought 
and  interest  was  changed;  and  as  the  result, 
within  eight  months  I  landed  on  American  soil.  It 
was  just  after  the  capture  of  the  KaflSr  chief, 
Sekukuni,  by  Sir  Garnet  Wolseley  and  his  native 
allies,  the  Zwasis,  in  1879,  I  think. 

I  was  crossing  the  high  veldt  at  the  time,  on  the 
way  from  Leydenburg  to  Heidelburg.  The  jour- 
ney itself  was  very  interesting  for  other  reasons, 
which  cannot  well  be  omitted  from  my  narrative. 
A  few  miles  out  of  Leydenburg,  the  wagon-road 
winds  up  the  face  of  a  precipitous  mountain.  With 
anything  but  a  clever  span  of  oxen,  the  ascent 
was  long  drawn  out  and  extremely  difficult.  One 
morning,  on  account  of  a  break  in  the  wagon- 
gear,  I  was  compelled  to  outspan  some  distance 
from  the  summit  of  the  hill.  Shortly  after  the  sun 
had  cleared  the  mountain-tops,  the  blanket  of 
mist  in  the  long  valley  below  quickly  evaporated, 
and  exposed  to  view  a  remarkable  scene. 

A  straggling  column  of  Zwasi  Kaffirs,  about  five 
thousand  in  number,  came  out  of  the  mist  and 
began  to  ascend  the  hill.  They  were  returning 
from  the  country  of  their  hereditary  enemies  the 
Maccatees,  where  they  had  been  helping  the  Brit- 
ish to  burn  and  sack  their  principal  town.  Here 
and  there  could  be  seen  small  bunches  of  captured 
cattle  and  women,  and  bringing  up  the  rear  was  a 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      93 

long  string  of  the  wounded.  Efforts  had  been 
made  in  Leydenburg  to  provide  treatment  for 
some  of  them  in  the  hospitals;  but  what  was  the 
use?  When  the  main  body  arrived  and  marched, 
chanting  and  jabbering,  through  the  streets,  the 
patients  tore  off  the  bandages  and  were  soon  hob- 
bling along  in  the  rear  of  the  procession.  Later, 
when  these  unfortunates  passed  my  wagon,  in- 
stead of  bandages  there  were  patches  of  clay, 
and  in  some  of  the  more  jagged  wounds  made  by 
potlegs  and  such  missiles,  which  had  been  utilized 
instead  of  bullets,  there  were  plugs  of  twisted 
grass.  Recovery  for  these  stout-hearted  warriors 
was  a  foregone  conclusion. 

It  was  on  this  occasion  that  I  had  the  singular 
fortune  again  to  meet  Peixoto.  Like  many  other 
adventurers,  he  had  taken  service  and  in  the 
course  of  time  had  become  naturalized  among 
the  Zwasis.  His  account  of  the  campaign  in  Seku- 
kuni's  country  was  particularly  interesting  in  re- 
lation to  the  development  of  his  own  character. 
It  seems  he,  with  a  troop  of  his  Zwasi  warriors, 
had  been  left  behind  for  a  day  or  two  to  patrol 
the  mountains  after  the  caves  had  been  dyna- 
mited by  the  British.  He  affirmed,  with  savage 
glee,  that  when  he  came  away  from  the  place,  by 
placing  his  ear  to  the  ground  he  could  still  hear 
dogs  barking  and  children  crying  down  below  in 
the  sealed-up  caves.  He  was  glad,  he  said,  he  was 


94      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

not  a  Christian;  the  Kaffir  and  Kaffir  life  were 
good  enough  for  him. 

However,  I  continued  my  journey,  and  one 
evening  was  comfortably  outspanned  on  the  high 
veldt  when  a  large  cape  cart,  drawn  by  four 
horses,  came  along  and  made  preparations  to 
camp  alongside  our  wagons  for  the  night.  I  hap- 
pened to  have  two  or  three  very  tame  chickens 
which  were  eating  out  of  my  hand  and  perching 
at  times  on  my  shoulders.  Very  soon  an  elderly 
man,  one  of  a  group  which  had  arrived  with  the 
cape  cart,  caught  sight  of  the  chickens  and  came 
over  to  my  wagon  gayly  clapping  his  hands. 
With  chickens  as  a  point  of  contact,  a  conversa- 
tion ensued  that  was  prolonged  into  the  night 
and  continued  with  unabated  interest  the  follow- 
ing morning.  I  told  the  man  a  good  deal  about  my- 
self, my  plans  and  my  philosophy;  and  one  thing 
leading  to  another,  he  happened  to  strike  into  the 
subject  of  Democracy  and  the  United  States.  To 
me,  at  the  time,  it  was  absolutely  a  new  world  of 
thought.  Before  I  met  this  man,  had  any  one 
asked  me  to  define  a  Republican,  very  probably 
I  should  have  replied  that  he  was  a  horrid  sort  of 
a  demagogue  or  disturber  of  society  like  Charles 
Bradlaugh,  who,  on  five  minutes'  notice,  would, 
perhaps,  have  shipped  Queen  Victoria  to  Botany 
Bay. 
1    As  I  call  to  mind  our  conversation,  however. 


TRAVEL  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  AFRICA      95 

this  man  had  a  number  of  serious  criticisms  to 
make  of  the  tendencies  of  democratic  government 
in  the  United  States.  Nevertheless,  he  drew,  for 
my  benefit,  a  brilHant  picture  of  its  principles  and 
possibilities,  and  before  his  analysis  was  finished, 
my  interest  and  enthusiasm  in  the  matter  were 
aroused  to  the  highest  pitch.  Finally  he  gave  me 
a  good  deal  of  inside  history  in  regard  to  affairs, 
and  consequently  in  regard  to  my  own  prospects, 
in  Africa,  for  a  number  of  years  to  come,  and  he 
strongly  advised  me  to  make  the  best  of  my  way 
to  the  United  States. 

This  man  was  the  celebrated  war  correspond- 
ent known  to  Americans  in  particular,  as  well  as 
to  all  the  world,  as  "Bull  Run  Russell." 

As  soon,  then,  as  I  was  able  to  dispose  of  what 
little  stock  and  interests  I  owned  in  the  country, 
I  set  out  on  the  long  trip  to  America. 


IV 


IMPRESSIONS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE 
EIGHTIES 


Having  made  up  my  mind  to  leave  South 
Africa,  it  did  not  take  me  long  to  get  under  way. 
The  situation  at  the  time,  poHtical  and  otherwise, 
was  not  very  promising.  With  outspoken  sym- 
pathy for  Boers  and  KaflBrs,  my  prospects  were 
anything  but  bright.  In  most  of  the  towns,  Brit- 
ish sentiment  was  very  aggressive,  and  personal 
encounters  between  Uitlanders  and  Africanders 
were  of  daily  occurrence.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
there  was  nearly  as  much  danger  in  leaving  the 
country  as  there  was  in  remaining  and  facing  the 
music.  But  having  made  up  my  mind,  I  selected 
the  easiest  route  and  that  was  by  way  of  the  Dia- 
mond Fields.  On  a  former  visit  to  these  fields 
I  had  got  a  glimpse  of  their  interesting  activities, 
and  I  was  anxious  to  widen  the  experience.  So 
I  made  my  plans  to  travel  from  Pretoria  to  Kim- 
berley,  and  thence  to  the  Cape. 

Just  before  leaving  Pretoria,  however,  I  met  a 
prospector  by  the  name  of  James.  He  was  one  of 
those  enthusiastic  individuals  who  never  take  no 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES         97 

for  an  answer,  or  defeat  for  an  end.  He  had  been 
one  of  the  first  on  the  ground  at  the  Pilgrims' 
Rest  Gold  Fields,  and  when  speculation  grew  tame 
in  that  quarter,  he  turned  his  attention  to  Rus- 
tenburg  and  to  the  district  now  known  as  the 
Rand. 

When  I  met  James  in  Pretoria  the  future  of 
the  Rand,  with  commerce  and  railroads  and 
Johannesburg  and  billions  of  gold  in  the  moun- 
tains, was  already  clearly  mapped  out  in  his  pro- 
phetic yet  practical  imagination.  In  fact,  he  had 
the  samples  of  quartz  in  his  saddle-bags  at  the 
time,  and  he  was  quietly  trying  to  raise  the  funds 
wherewith  to  purchase  a  few  farms  in  the  district, 
upon  which  his  faith  in  the  Transvaal  and  his 
hopes  for  his  own  future  were  pinned.  His  enthu- 
siasm was  contagious.  His  was  the  inspiration  de- 
rived from  a  certainty.  I  was  sorely  tempted  to 
embark,  in  a  small  way,  in  his  venture.  Indeed, 
I  actually  put  off  my  departure  for  a  day  or  two, 
hesitating. 

But  James  could  not  wait  for  me  or  anybody 
else.  The  gold  fever  was  already  in  the  air,  the 
price  of  farms  in  the  promising  districts  was  on  the 
jump,  and  altogether  the  situation  was  vastly  dif- 
ferent from  the  days  at  the  end  of  the  Burgers' 
administration,  when  a  farm  of  six  thousand  acres 
was  actually  exchanged  for  two  bottles  of  Hen- 
nessey's "three  star"  brandy. 


98      AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

But  mental  and  political  considerations  were 
more  potent  than  the  glitter  of  gold  dust  or  the 
dreams  of  riches.  So,  finally,  I  purchased  a  pas- 
sage on  the  Kimberley  coach  and  made  my  exit 
from  the  Transvaal. 

The  Diamond  Fields  at  the  time  of  my  last 
visit  was  without  doubt  one  of  the  most  peculiar 
and  interesting  spots  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
Their  desolate,  sun-baked  surroundings,  the 
diamond-crazed  faces  of  the  inhabitants,  the  ab- 
solute fury  of  the  social  and  business  conditions, 
and  above  all,  that  awful  "pit"  with  its  hive  of 
toiling  humanity  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  are 
never-to-be-forgotten  features  of  my  African  ex- 
perience. If  I  were  not  positive,  however,  that 
these  scenes  and  conditions  made  such  a  lasting 
impression  on  my  mind  as  to  influence,  in  some 
degree,  the  current  of  my  human  philosophy,  I 
should  now  dismiss  the  Diamond  Fields  without 
further  comment.  But  the  impressions  were  last- 
ing, and  the  pictures  that  remain  in  my  mind  are 
most  interesting.  In  passing,  then,  let  me  take  a 
final  glance  at  the  strange  panorama. 

Kimberley  was  not  then  the  city  of  to-day.  The 
pit  itself  was  its  principal  and  its  unforgettable 
feature.  Forever  widening  and  deepening,  it  was 
constantly  forcing  the  houses  away  and  back  from 
its  edges.  Everywhere  on  these  edges,  shanties 
and  barrooms  and  brokers'  oflices  were  literally 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES         99 

hanging.  Farther  back  there  were  streets,  hotels 
by  the  dozen,  and  a  wide  market-place.  Scattered 
in  tents,  wagons,  and  houses  on  the  surrounding 
plain  were  thousands  of  white  men,  thousands  of 
Kaffirs,  and  here  and  there  a  woman.  Over  the 
town  itself,  during  the  daytime,  there  was  a  daz- 
zling glare  from  a  sea  of  white  iron  roofs.  The  pit 
itself,  as  far  down  as  the  eye  could  penetrate,  was 
a  labyrinth  of  steel  wires  and  flying  buckets,  for- 
ever hoisting,  darting  hither  and  thither,  and 
emptying  their  precious  loads  of  slimy  blue  clay. 
Everywhere  on  the  enormous  wings  and  ends  of 
the  pit,  terraces  rose  above  terraces,  all  of  them 
lined  with  puffing  engines,  and  swarming  with 
human  dots. 

At  the  time  of  my  last  visit  to  these  diamond 
fields  the  community  was  divided  into  two  hostile 
camps,  consisting  of  legitimate  and  illegitimate 
brokers.  The  former  had  offices  and  a  license,  the 
latter  scorned  expense  and  control  of  any  kind, 
and  had  dealings  directly,  and  on  the  quiet,  with 
the  Kaffirs  in  the  pit.  The  Kaffir  laborers  were 
just  then  beginning  to  understand  the  opportuni- 
ties connected  with  their  employment,  and  scores 
of  valuable  stones  were  finding  their  way  into  the 
market  and  giving  no  end  of  trouble  to  the  legi- 
timate dealers.  When  a  Kaffir  was  caught  at  the 
game  he  received  an  unmerciful  thrashing  from 
the  vigilance  committee,  and  occasionally  was 


100    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

strung  up  on  a  lamp-post,  for  there  were  no  trees 
in  the  vicinity.  But  the  thrashed  Kaffir  went  home 
to  his  kraal  and  thought  it  all  over;  he  inevitably 
returned  with  all  sorts  of  ingenious  devices  for 
concealing  the  gems  on  his  naked  person,  which  he 
perforated  with  holes  and  tunnels,  and  in  his 
stomach,  which  he  manipulated  in  various  ways 
at  will.  Finally,  in  course  of  time,  the  mine  itself 
was  surrounded  by  a  high  fence  and  a  rigid  sys- 
tem of  examination  was  instituted  by  the  authori- 
ties. Its  principal  features  were  emetics,  tapping 
the  bodies  to  locate  the  cavities,  and  hanging  by 
the  neck;  but  at  the  time  I  left  the  Fields  this 
naked  Kaffir  thief  was  still  the  unsolved  problem. 

I  took  passage  for  Cape  Town  on  the  "Royal 
Mail"  cart.  It  was  then  known  as  the  "Diamond 
Express."  The  fare  was  double  that  charged  on 
the  ordinary  diligence.  The  equipment  was  a 
small  two-wheeled  cart,  four  horses  or  mules,  a 
Hottentot  driver,  the  mail-bags,  and  a  single  pas- 
senger. The  stages  were  about  two  hours,  "on 
horseback,"  apart,  and  the  pace  was  a  breakneck 
gallop,  night  and  day,  four  hundred  miles,  from 
Kimberley  to  Beaufort,  —  the  latter  was  then  the 
terminus  of  the  railroad,  —  and  hence  to  Cape 
Town. 

In  this  way,  then,  without  further  adventure, 
I  took  my  departure  from  South  Africa. 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES       101 

n 

In  looking  back  I  always  find  that  the  days 
spent  in  South  Africa  are  among  the  most  useful 
and  personally  interesting  of  my  career.  Just  at 
the  time  when  my  intellectual  and  religious  de- 
velopment was  being  subjected  to  tests,  on  the 
outcome  of  which  to  quite  an  extent  the  direction 
of  my  activities  for  the  future  was  dependent,  a 
sort  of  physical  appeal  to  my  manhood  and  to  my 
human  sympathies  was  experienced.  It  is  quite 
clear  to  me  now  that  a  healthy  and  vigorous  body 
and  an  adventurous  spirit,  such  as  I  acquired  in 
South  Africa,  were  among  the  essential  character- 
istics that  later  on  enabled  and  encouraged  me  to 
go  to  work  on  wider  problems  than  were  to  be 
found  in  the  surroundings  and  routine  of  a  switch- 
tower. 

The  voyage  from  Cape  Town,  South  Africa, 
to  Boston,  Massachusetts,  was  uneventful;  and 
there  was  not  an  incident  connected  with  it,  or  a 
personage  met  on  the  way,  that  calls  for  atten- 
tion. 

I  arrived  in  Boston  in  the  month  of  May,  1881. 
So  far  as  my  acquaintance  with  a  single  inhabi- 
tant of  the  United  States  was  concerned,  I  might 
just  as  well  have  dropped  down  from  the  moon. 
I  was  almost  as  ignorant  of  the  geography  of  the 
country  as  was  Columbus  at  the  time  he  was  try- 
ing to  figure  out  the  location  of  the  continent  in 


102    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST'. 

the  western  hemisphere.  My  personal  interest  in 
the  country  dates  from  my  conversation  with 
"Bull  Run"  Russell;  and  backed  by  a  roving  dis- 
position, and  a  mind  that  was  just  beginning  to 
develop  its  world-interest,  I  came  over  to  America 
to  investigate.  My  people  in  different  parts  of  the 
world  had  already  given  me  up  as  an  irreclaimable 
wanderer. 

Following  along  the  lines  of  my  special  interest, 
then,  I  began  by  spending  some  time  wandering 
about  the  streets  of  the  city  of  Boston,  studying 
manners,  conditions,  and  people.  I  had  a  little 
money  in  my  pocket,  and  I  was  in  no  particular 
hurry  to  make  myself  known  or  to  settle  down  at 
a  fixed  occupation.  I  visited  churches,  factories, 
stores,  theatres,  dance-halls,  and  the  slums.  To  a 
certain  extent,  under  different  conditions,  I  had 
behaved  in  a  similar  manner  in  South  America  and 
Africa;  but  my  points  of  view  had  been  changing 
and,  when  I  arrived  in  Boston  I  was  no  longer  a 
boy,  trying  to  protect  myself  from  Society  and  so- 
cial temptations,  but  a  man  of  considerable  expe- 
rience, with  a  more  or  less  definite  purpose. 

My  personal  appearance  at  the  time  was  a  little 
out  of  the  ordinary.  I  wore  a  corduroy  coat  with 
a  belt,  very  negligee  shirts,  and  on  my  wrists  were 
a  number  of  copper  rings  or  Kaffir  bangles,  popu- 
larly worn  by  white  people  of  those  days  in  many 
parts  of  South  Africa.  But,  to  my  mind,  I  was  by 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES       103 

no  means  as  picturesque  as  the  average  Bostonian 
of  the  period.  For  one  thing,  the  coat  of  the  day 
was  ridiculously  short,  and  the  significant  feature 
of  the  male  countenance  was  the  popular  "mut- 
ton-chop" patch  on  the  cheeks,  which  hitherto 
I  had  always  associated  with  the  box-seat  of  a 
carriage. 

Still  more  astonishing  was  the  costume  of  the 
women:  hideous  "barber-pole"  skirts,  which  gave 
an  up-and-down  appearance  to  the  faces,  were 
supplemented  by  greasy-looking  curls  or  ringlets 
patched  indiscriminately  on  the  forehead  and  oc- 
casionally on  the  back  of  the  neck.  Added  to  this 
was  the  huge,  yet  in  some  way  jaunty,  projection 
or  bustle  that  brought  up  the  rear  of  this  typical 
female  ensemble  of  the  early  eighties. 

Turning  from  people  to  conditions,  however, 
the  situation  at  the  time  appeared  to  be  some- 
thing of  a  paradox.  Taking  into  account  the  man- 
ifest energy  and  resourcefulness  of  the  people,  it 
was  difficult  to  account  for  the  unsatisfactory  so- 
cial conditions  that  existed,  it  would  seem,  almost 
unobserved.  Beggars  were  numerous,  side  streets 
were  filthy,  in  some  districts  loafers  and  drunk- 
ards on  the  sidewalks  seemed  to  constitute  a  ma- 
jority of  the  people  in  sight,  while  on  some  of  the 
streets  the  soliciting  heads  of  women  at  windows 
could  be  noticed  in  rows,  and  counted  by  the 
dozen.  This  state  of  affairs  elicited  but  little  com- 


104    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

ment  in  newspapers  or  otherwise,  and  I  myself, 
like  the  community  at  large,  looked  upon  it  all  as 
more  or  less  inevitable. 

But  when  I  turned  from  this  social  and  eco- 
nomic survey  of  the  mental  and  personal  activi- 
ties of  the  average  New  Englander  of  those  days,  a 
remarkable  state  of  affairs,  in  which  I  was  in- 
tensely interested,  was  unfolded.  Society  at  the 
time,  from  top  to  bottom,  was  absorbingly  inter- 
ested in  personal  culture  and  development  of  every 
description.  In  the  year  1881,  self -culture  was  the 
supreme  topic  in  the  public  mind,  much  as  is  so- 
cial and  industrial  betterment  at  the  present  day. 

Notable  among  the  teachers  of  this  personal 
religion  were  Phillips  Brooks,  and  William  H. 
Baldwin,  of  the  Boston  Young  Men's  Christian 
Union.  There  were  many  others,  but  I  was  parti- 
cularly impressed  by  the  wide  human  sympathy 
that  permeated  the  individualistic  doctrines  of 
these  men.  It  was  through  Mr.  Baldwin  that 
I  was  able  to  come  in  contact  with  people  who  were 
actively  engaged  in  spreading  the  propaganda  of 
personal  development  and  personal  responsibility 
so  congenial  to  me. 

After  a  month  or  two  spent  in  circumspection  of 
this  kind  in  and  around  the  city  of  Boston,  I  be- 
gan to  think  about  securing  some  kind  of  employ- 
ment. Very  naturally  I  turned  my  attention  to 
the  telegraph  business  with  which,  already,  I  was 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES       105 

more  or  less  conversant.  After  some  preliminary 
breaking-in,  I  secured  a  temporary  position  at 
Hancock,  New  Hampshire,  and  then  a  permanent 
one  as  a  telegraph  operator  in  a  railroad  office  at 
East  Deerfield,  Massachusetts. 

Thus  my  personal  venture  on  the  sea  of  Ameri- 
can social  life  and  industry  was  made.  Intellectu- 
ally, my  equipment  at  the  time  was  very  crude. 
Religiously,  so  far  as  affiliations  were  concerned, 
I  was  in  a  sort  of  personal  dreamland,  in  which, 
I  confess,  I  am  still  thankfully  and  joyously  floun- 
dering. In  the  distance  the  problems  of  American 
life  were  beginning  to  take  form  on  the  horizon, 
and  there  was  no  mistaking  the  nature  of  the  rud- 
der with  which  I  was  preparing  to  navigate  into 
the  beckoning  future. 

Shakespeare  has  divided  the  itinerary  of  im- 
aginary human  pilgrims  into  a  number  of  charac- 
teristic stages.  He  takes  "the  whining  school- 
boy," and  conducts  him  through  a  series  of 
adventures  from  stage  to  stage,  until,  finally,  in 
old  age,  tottering  in  limbs  and  faculties,  with 
"shrunk  shank"  and  "childish  treble,"  he  ends 
his  strange  eventful  history  in  mere  oblivion. 

But  the  thinking  man  on  the  upward  climb, 
pausing  at  intervals  and  looking  backward,  has  or 
should  have  a  much  more  vital  and  interesting  ex- 
perience to  chronicle  than  is  contained  in  Shake- 
speare's theatrical  conception.    On  the  whole. 


106    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

either  in  tendency  or  emphatically,  the  man  has 
been  one  of  two  things  —  either  his  associations, 
and  the  inner  impulse  coming  down  from  the 
inscrutable  past,  have  been  carrying  him  along 
and  directing  his  movements  this  way  or  that,  or, 
on  the  other  hand,  his  will  in  great  and  small, 
consciously  and  persistently,  has  been  hewing 
a  personal  trail  through  a  forest  of  difficulties. 
With  individual  progress  of  the  latter  description 
my  story  has  now  to  deal. 

Ill 

From  the  standpoint  of  conditions  on  railroads 
at  the  present  day,  the  buildings  and  equipment 
at  East  Deerfield  at  the  time  of  my  first  appear- 
ance on  the  scene  were  decidedly  primitive.  The 
principal  structure  was  a  long  pier-like  shed, 
erected  on  piles,  on  one  end  of  which  my  head- 
quarters, the  telegraph  office,  was  poised  at  an 
ever-shifting  angle,  according  to  the  weather  and 
the  moisture,  or  lack  of  it,  in  the  ground.  In  the 
rear  of  the  office  there  was  a  long  wooden  building 
with  facilities  for  the  transfer  of  freight.  Again, 
close  at  hand,  there  was  an  engine-house,  a  coal- 
elevator,  a  building  used  for  the  storage  of  flour, 
and  an  extensive  freight  yard.  The  buildings  and 
facilities,  however,  were  not  much  ahead  of  the 
methods  that  were  employed  in  taking  care  of  the 
property  that  was  being  hauled  over  the  railroad. 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES       107 

Shortly  after  my  arrival  I  noticed  in  one  of  the 
sheds  several  pieces  of  merchandise  for  which 
owners  were  wanted.  The  marks  on  these  pack- 
ages were  very  indistinct.  Some  one  had  been 
guessing  at  the  consignees'  names  and  addresses, 
and  the  stuff  was  at  East  Deerfield  to  be  guessed 
at  again,  and  forwarded  accordingly.  But  in  pur- 
suit of  articles  of  this  description,  as  I  found  out 
later,  there  inevitably  came  along,  sooner  or 
later,  what  was  known  as  a  "tracer."  Sometimes 
the  tracer  came  ahead  of  the  goods ;  sometimes  the 
goods  came  ahead  of  the  tracer.  In  any  case, 
the  two  items  were  forever  in  pursuit  of  each 
other,  and,  besides,  there  was  a  specially  em- 
ployed railroad  official,  who  did  nothing  but  travel 
from  place  to  place  in  a  desperate  endeavor  to 
make  the  fugitives  connect.  In  one  instance  a  bale 
of  cotton,  indistinctly  marked,  made  tours  of  the 
United  States  in  this  way,  and  on  the  second  year 
of  its  pilgrimage  the  tracer  that  was  hunting  for  it 
was  as  bulky  as  any  history  of  the  country  for  the 
same  period. 

But  my  life  and  surroundings  at  East  Deerfield 
can  be  better  illustrated  by  a  glance  at  my  com- 
panions and  fellow  workers.  From  these  men  I 
derived  my  first  ideas  of  Americans  as  individuals, 
and  of  some  of  their  characteristics.  And  more  par- 
ticularly my  attention  was  directed  to  the  type 
commonly  spoken  of  as  the  Yankee.   To  me,  at 


108    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

the  time,  he  was  a  puzzling  personality.  I  was 
given  to  understand  that  he  was  world-famous  as 
the  man  with  a  "knack."  During  the  period  of  my 
initiation  at  East  Deerfield,  three  of  these  typical 
New  Englanders  formed  almost  exclusively  the 
circle  of  my  social  and  business  acquaintance- 
ship. 

The  first  man  I  will  simply  refer  to  as  Henry. 
He  was  a  big  fellow  in  every  way,  except  perhaps 
in  the  matter  of  brains.  But  in  his  case  this  was 
not  much  of  a  drawback.  That  which  in  most  peo- 
ple would  be  looked  upon  as  unforgivable  "bluff," 
in  him  was  simply  an  overflow  of  animal  spirits. 
His  conversation,  containing  neither  rhyme  nor 
reason,  was  always  on  the  rampage.  His  natural 
ability  was  insignificant,  but  his  failures  were  all 
turned  into  pleasantries  which  became  the  step- 
ping-stones to  continued  enterprise  in  other  direc- 
tions. His  happy-go-lucky  disposition  dispensed 
with  formalities  and  made  light  of  impediments, 
and  as  as  result,  in  course  of  time,  while  I  and 
others  were  at  a  standstill  Henry  bounded  from 
one  lucrative  situation  to  another,  until  finally  he 
settled  down  as  mayor  of  a  city  in  Connecticut. 
From  this  man  I  got  my  first  idea  of  Yankee  push 
and  assurance. 

The  word  "type"  is  frequently  misunderstood 
and  misapplied.  Henry,  for  instance,  was  not  a 
typical  Yankee.    He  was  a  variation  from  the 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES       109 

type,  and  a  very  forcible  embodiment  of  one  or 
two  Yankee  characteristics. 

My  second  companion  at  East  Deerfield  I  will 
call  Jake.  I  cannot  say  that  his  occupation  at 
East  Deerfield  could  be  taken  as  an  index  to  his 
character,  but  it  is  somewhat  difficult  to  think  of 
them  apart.  He  had  charge  of  the  flour-house  at 
the  back  of  the  freight  yards.  He  was  working  for 
one  of  the  wealthiest  and  best-known  business 
combinations  in  the  country. 

One  evening  Jake  received  a  telegram  instruct- 
ing him  to  send  three  shipments  of  flour  of  differ- 
ent quality  or  brand  to  three  widely  separated 
points  in  New  England.  He  happened  to  be  in  a 
hurry  that  evening,  so  he  asked  me  to  help  him  in 
rolling  the  barrels  from  the  house  into  the  car. 
Jake  began  operations  with  the  matter-of-fact 
statement,  "  I  have  n't  got  a  single  barrel  of  the 
brands  that  are  called  for,  but  just  watch  me 
make  them."  So  he  went  to  work  and  gave  me  a 
demonstration  of  how  quality  can  be  imparted  to 
flour  and  stamped  on  a  barrel  in  the  form  of  a 
brand,  in  a  very  few  minutes,  with  the  aid  of 
a  scraper,  a  little  paint,  and  a  stencil. 

Jake  was  a  business  variation  from  the  original 
Yankee  stem.  Of  course,  the  instance  I  have 
given  is  only  an  illustration  of  a  practice  that  was 
followed  in  that  flour-house  year  in  and  year  out. 

But  the  genuine,  fully  equipped,  and  right- 


110    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

minded  Yankee  at  East  Deerfield  was  the  station 
agent,  Mr.  F.  A.  Field.  From  the  day  of  my  ar- 
rival, without  interruption,  until  I  left  the  place,  I 
was  attached  to  him  in  a  close  social  and  business 
relationship.  Under  his  friendly  tutelage,  I  soon 
acquired  a  fairly  comprehensive  insight  into  so- 
cial and  industrial  conditions  in  America.  In  age, 
Mr.  Field  was  my  senior  by  four  or  five  years.  So 
far  as  knowledge  of  human  nature  and  human  so- 
ciety was  concerned,  he  was  also  far  and  away  my 
superior.  Furthermore,  at  the  telegraph  key,  in 
directing  the  movement  of  trains  and  the  activi- 
ties of  men,  in  fact,  in  all  the  important  and  intri- 
cate duties  of  a  railroad  yard-master,  I  have  never 
since  met  his  equal.  For  the  rest,  he  was  a  widely 
informed  man,  shrewd,  honest,  tenacious  of  his 
opinions,  and  interested  in  the  world  to  an 
absorbing  degree.  His  general  vitality  can  be 
understood  from  one  of  his  favorite  remarks,  "I 
can  never  allow  myself  to  grow  old." 

But  to  my  mind,  the  outstanding  feature  of  his 
character  was  his  social  and  economic  enthusiasm. 
Backed  by  columns  of  facts  and  figures,  he  stud- 
ied the  signs  of  the  times,  and  applied  his  own 
sympathetic  brand  of  social  philosophy  to  their 
interpretation.  He  was  particularly  interested  in 
my  educational  ideas  and  programme,  and  the 
benefit  I  derived  from  his  companionship  was 
inestimable. 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE   EIGHTIES       111 

In  regard  to  the  recognition  of  personal  merit, 
and  the  preservation  of  individual  initiative  in 
human  society,  Mr.  Field  and  I  were  of  one  mind, 
but  I  remember  distinctly  we  took  different  sides 
on  the  subject  of  favoritism  in  the  railroad  service. 
I  insisted  that,  as  a  rule,  the  energetic,  capable 
man  was  selected,  regardless  of  friendships,  and 
so  forth;  he  contended  that  the  exceptions  to  the 
rule  were  intolerable.  It  was  plain  to  us  both  that 
the  manager  was  to  blame;  but,  alas,  the  manager 
himself  was  sometimes  appointed  in  the  same 
way. 

But  Field's  philosophical  circumspection  was 
not  confined  to  the  railroad  service.  He  consid- 
ered his  country  from  one  end  to  the  other,  with 
its  boundless  acreage  and  resources,  and  when  he 
thought  of  the  lamentable  lack  of  food,  clothing, 
and  decent  housing  conditions  among  the  masses, 
he  refused  to  be  comforted.  So  the  remedy  and 
the  reform  were  forever  the  topics  of  his  conversa- 
tion. In  course  of  time,  one  after  another,  the 
popular  panaceas,  such  as  the  single  tax,  popu- 
lism, and  free  silver,  came  up  for  discussion.  In 
connection  with  them  all,  in  their  time,  Mr.  Field 
could  plainly  discern  the  signs  of  social  salvation 
on  the  horizon.  I,  on  the  other  hand,  anticipated 
the  awakening  of  the  social  conscience,  and  I  be- 
lieved in  the  gradual  and  natural  evolution  of  the 
existing  order  of  things. 


112    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

At  any  rate,  this  was  the  school  at  East  Deer- 
field  in  which  my  individualistic  opinions  first 
came  in  contact  with  the  practical  problems  of 
life. 

Mr.  Field's  home  was  on  a  farm,  situated  on  the 
Connecticut  River,  near  Montague,  Massachu- 
setts. Here,  for  a  number  of  years,  I  was  privi- 
leged to  consider  myself  as  one  of  the  family. 
From  the  social  and  literary  points  of  view,  a 
more  delightful  environment  could  not  be  imag- 
ined. Our  discussions,  which  to  me  were  so  vi- 
tally interesting,  were  frequently  started  in  the 
office  at  East  Deerfield,  continued  along  the  rail- 
road tracks  on  the  way  home,  and  taken  up  again 
after  supper,  amid  a  circle  of  interested  listeners. 

IV 

The  story  of  my  intellectual  development  in  the 
school  of  discussion,  with  Frank  Field  as  inter- 
preter, of  American  life  and  conditions  has  over- 
lapped my  business  experience  in  the  telegraph 
oflfice.  Turning  now  to  this  side  of  my  personal 
progress,  my  most  vivid  impression  of  American 
railroad  life  in  those  days  was  produced  by  man's 
inhumanity  to  man.  Neither  the  social  conscience 
of  the  community,  nor  the  personal  conscience  of 
the  employee,  paid  any  attention  to  the  sacrifice 
of  life  on  the  railroads  that  the  nation  was  paying 
to  the  blind  spirit  of  industrial  progress.    In  the 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES       113 

business  itself  this  lamentable  state  of  affairs  was 
basic,  and  its  effect  was  far-reaching.  For  exam- 
ple, in  some  of  the  departments  it  was  considered 
nothing  less  than  a  crime  to  be  a  beginner.  The 
green  brakeman  and  the  green  telegraph  operator 
were  the  most  conspicuous  victims  of  this  under- 
standing. Only  those  who  have  run  the  gauntlet 
of  this  experience  can  have  any  idea  of  its  bitter- 
ness. Without  preliminary  instructions  of  any 
kind,  a  man  was  assigned  to  a  freight  train;  in 
three  cases  out  of  five  the  next  thing  for  the  rail- 
road to  do  was  to  bury  him.  It  was  the  link 
and  pin,  the  overhead  bridge,  or  the  stealthy 
freight  car  on  a  flying  switch,  that  closed  the 
accounts. 

I  was  in  at  the  death  in  a  hundred  such  cases, 
and,  although  blood  was  as  red  and  hearts  were  as 
warm  then  as  to-day,  there  seemed  to  be  no  power 
on  earth,  or  incentive  in  the  human  mind,  to  move 
people  to  action  in  the  matter.  As  with  the  mind 
of  a  child,  I  suppose,  so  with  that  of  a  nation; 
civilized  ideas  have  a  fixed  order  of  development 
and  decay.  Social  sympathy  is  the  last  born  of  so- 
cial conceptions.  In  the  early  eighties  evidence  of 
social  responsibility,  in  the  slaughter  on  railroads, 
was  confined  to  the  sign  on  the  crossing,  "Look 
out  for  the  engine!" 

From  the  fact  that  my  mind  was  neither  ob- 
scured by  traditions  nor  influenced  by  commcr- 


114    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

cialism,  the  situation  on  the  railroads  in  those 
days  was  more  incomprehensible  to  me  than  the 
deplorable  social  conditions  in  South  America.  In 
discussion  with  Mr.  Field  "the  accident"  was  one 
of  our  standard  topics,  and  every  word  I  have 
written  on  the  matter  since  owes  its  vitality  to  the 
vivid  impressions  I  received  in  those  first  years  at 
East  Deerfield. 

The  railroad  itself  in  those  days,  and  particu- 
larly the  train  service,  was  looked  upon  by  the 
public  as  a  semi-disreputable  business.  New  Eng- 
land parents,  for  example,  never  thought  of  map- 
ping out  a  future  for  their  boys  in  any  depart- 
ment of  railroad  life.  The  consensus  of  opinion  on 
the  subject  was  by  no  means  unreasonable,  for  the 
train  and  yard  crews,  especially,  were  recruited, 
generally  speaking,  from  the  floating  army  of  mis- 
fits and  breakdowns  to  be  found  at  all  times  in 
every  community.  The  average  railroad  tele- 
grapher, that  is,  the  veteran,  was  emphatically  a 
suspect  of  this  description. 

But  the  recruiting  of  the  telegraph  service  was 
conducted  in  a  field  by  itself.  Generally  speaking, 
if  a  telegraph  operator  held  on  to  his  job  for  two 
or  three  months,  he  was  considered  unusually 
reliable.  Consequently,  with  so  much  shifting 
and  discharging  of  men  on  every  railroad  in  the 
country,  beginners  were  always  in  demand.  Al- 
most   without  exception,    these   beginners  were 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES       115 

drawn  from  respectable  homes  in  the  country.  In 
most  instances,  however,  these  boys  and  girls 
drifted  to  the  railroad  as  students,  against  the 
wishes  of  parents.  After  a  short  period  of  train- 
ing, they  were  placed  in  charge  of  offices  at  night. 
Their  duties  consisted  in  sending  and  receiving 
a  variety  of  orders  relating  to  the  movements  of 
trains,  and  in  seeing  to  it  that  these  orders  were 
clearly  understood  by  the  trainmen. 

Humanly  speaking,  these  young  boys  and 
girls,  some  of  them  just  out  of  school,  had  no  more 
business  in  these  telegraph  offices  than  so  many 
untutored  savages.  For  the  railroad  business  was 
not  then  the  simplified  system  of  to-day.  It  was 
complicated  by  the  use  of  green,  white,  red,  and 
blue  signals,  and  by  a  score  of  rules  and  under- 
standings, in  the  confusion  of  which  the  right  of 
way  on  single  track  was  frequently  in  doubt,  and 
was  sometimes  figured  out  by  conductors  and 
others  after  considerable  argument.  In  the  midst 
of  it  all,  the  inexperienced  operator  sat  in  the  tele- 
graph office,  frequently  with  a  trembling  heart, 
handing  out  train-orders,  during  the  execution  of 
which  human  lives  were  at  all  times  hanging  in  the 
balance. 

It  was  the  green  telegraph  operator  of  those 
days,  then,  and  I  was  one  of  them,  who,  witness- 
ing the  slaughter  and  understanding  many  of  its 
causes,  felt  the  inhumanity  of  the  whole  situation 


116    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

in  double  degree,  and  the  following  was  one  of  the 
most  significant  reasons. 

In  everyday  conversation  a  polite  request  for 
the  repetition  of  a  word  or  a  remark  would  occa- 
sion no  comment  whatever;  but  anything  of  the 
kind  on  the  telegraph  wires,  in  those  days,  in  re- 
gard to  figures  or  words  misunderstood,  was 
nearly  always  the  signal  for  a  "roast"  from  the 
man  at  the  other  end  of  the  wire,  in  which  the 
beginner  was  treated  to  a  lurid  description  of 
his  personal  and  professional  shortcomings.  Stu- 
dents, or  "plugs,"  as  they  are  called,  frequently 
succumbed  to  this  treatment  and  resigned  their 
positions  in  dismay;  and  of  those  who  weathered 
the  storm,  the  majority  became  more  afraid  of  the 
hectoring  they  anticipated  than  they  were  of 
making  mistakes,  and  for  this  reason  fatalities 
were  continually  being  traced  to  the  door  of  the 
nervously  bewildered  beginners.  The  unreason- 
able behavior  of  the  experienced  men  was  not  a 
matter  of  design,  or  temperament:  it  was  simply 
a  habit  that  a  nerve-racking  state  of  affairs 
seemed  to  instill  into  everybody  from  the  super- 
intendent downward;  and  thus  the  beginners 
themselves,  when  they,  in  turn,  had  climbed  to 
positions  of  responsibility,  resorted,  without  fail, 
to  the  same  practices. 

Personally,  I  was  just  thick-skinned  enough  to 
worry  through  this  breaking-in  period  without 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES       117 

serious  results.  But  it  was  the  first  phase  of  the 
personal  problem  in  the  railroad  service  to  which 
my  attention  was  directed,  and  the  inspiration 
for  all  my  subsequent  analysis  of  conditions  on 
American  railroads  was  derived  from  the  vivid- 
ness of  these  early  impressions. 

Just  as  soon,  however,  as  I  became  fairly  con- 
versant with  my  duties  at  East  Deerfield,  I  turned 
once  more  to  the  wider  interests  of  education  and 
personal  development,  to  which  I  had  renewed 
my  allegiance  on  my  arrival  in  Boston. 


My  sojourn  at  East  Deerfield  may  be  termed 
aptly  the  reading  period  of  my  life.  Once  in  a 
while,  indeed,  I  thought  about  writing  down  some 
of  my  observations,  but  I  was  always  held  in 
check  by  the  lack  of  statistics  and  information 
outside  my  immediate  surroundings,  and  above 
all  I  felt  the  pressing  need  of  a  more  extensive 
vocabulary.  I  think  it  was  in  my  second  year  at 
East  Deerfield,  that  I  turned  to  my  English  dic- 
tionary to  appease  this  craving  for  words.  My 
delight  in  the  occupation  can,  I  think,  only  be 
properly  appreciated  by  the  student  who,  in  his 
youth,  has  wrestled  enthusiastically  with  pas- 
sages in  Homer  or  Virgil,  turning  over  the  leaves 
of  his  dictionary,  from  left  to  right  and  from  right 
to  left,  hundreds  of  times  in  an  evening,  until. 


118    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

utterly  exhausted,  he  has  fallen  asleep,  as  I  have, 
with  head  at  rest  on  the  open  volume. 

For  two  or  three  years,  while  at  East  Deerfield, 
I  carried  a  small  English  dictionary  in  my  pocket. 
I  never  looked  at  it,  however,  except  when  on 
railroad  journeys,  and  on  long  walks  which  I  de- 
lighted to  take  into  the  surrounding  country.  In 
this  way,  I  read  the  dictionary  through  word  by 
word,  from  cover  to  cover,  three  or  four  times,  not 
to  mention  the  more  important  words,  which  re- 
ceived special  attention  and  were  re-investigated 
in  larger  dictionaries. 

Later,  however,  it  became  clear  to  me  that 
stowed  away  in  my  mind  somewhere  there  had 
been,  from  my  school-daj^s  onward,  words  in 
plenty,  and  ideas  enough  for  my  purposes.  What 
I  really  lacked  was  practice,  conversationally  and 
with  the  pen,  in  the  use  of  them.  Not  only  was 
my  vocabulary  sufficient,  but  in  thinking  it  over 
later  I  discovered  and  followed  to  its  source  the 
method  by  which  I  acquired  this  vocabulary. 

In  presenting  an  argument,  stating  a  case,  or 
pleading  a  cause,  other  things  being  equal,  I  al- 
ways attributed  my  intellectual  advantage  to  the 
fact  that  in  my  youth  I  had  received  a  thorough 
drilling  in  Latin  and  Greek,  while  my  companions 
as  a  rule,  in  my  line  of  life,  had  not.  As  a  simple 
practical  equipment  for  life's  journey,  what  may 
be  called  my  classical  foundation  seems  to  me 


NEW  ENGL.VND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES        119 

now  to  be  worth  all  the  other  features  of  my 
school  education  put  together. 

This  reading  stage  of  my  life,  together  with  the 
study  of  the  dictionary  for  a  definite  purpose,  de- 
rived most  of  its  inspiration  from  the  literary 
circle  on  the  Field  farm.  My  own  intellectual 
enterprise  at  the  time,  however,  was  not  to  be  a 
fitful  dipping  into  literature :  it  soon  took  form  as 
a  simple  scheme  of  education.  That  these  kind 
friends  on  the  Field  farm  should  know  more  than 
I  did  about  life  and  literature  was  to  me  an  intol- 
erable situation.  Every  indication  of  the  kind, 
and  I  noticed  these  indications  daily,  was  an  addi- 
tional spur  to  exertion.  And  thus,  with  every 
topic  that  was  brought  up  for  discussion,  or  al- 
luded to  in  those  long  winter  evenings,  there  came 
to  me  the  ever-recurring  question,  "What  do  you 
know  about  this  matter?" 

How  full  of  inspiration  to  me  at  the  time  were 
these  literary  gatherings !  How  eagerly  we  used  to 
watch  each  other  for  the  slightest  indication  of 
originality  in  treatment  or  matter!  It  is  true,  I 
was  abnormally  sensitive  and  enthusiastic  at  the 
time.  It  was  always  up  to  me,  I  thought,  to  know 
more  than  the  other  fellows;  and  my  ambitions, 
as  I  have  said,  took  a  definite  and  practical  form. 
In  brief,  then,  what  had  I,  comparatively  a  youth, 
fresh  from  the  wilds  of  Africa,  to  say,  in  the  com- 
pany of  these  new-found  American  friends,  about 


120    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

religion,  slavery,  philosophy,  history,  and  the 
march  of  the  human  race  from  the  time  of  the 
cave-dwellers  up  to  Emerson  and  Darwin?  Here 
was  a  definite  outline  of  desired  knowledge. 

When  men  were  spoken  of,  what  did  I  know 
about  Plato  and  Mahomet,  Alexander  and  Charle- 
magne, Csesar  and  Alfred,  Shaftesbury  and  Lin- 
coln? How  about  the  mighty  roll  of  poets  and 
thinkers — Shakespeare  and  Milton,  Gibbon  and 
Plutarch,  Scott  and  Lecky,  Darwin  and  Spencer, 
Carlyle  and  Ruskin,  Burns  and  Tennyson?  But, 
above  all,  what  did  I  know  about  the  great  indus- 
trial and  social  problems  of  the  day?  All  kinds  — 
grand,  ridiculous,  and  menacing  —  were  on  the 
horizon,  and  all  sorts  of  startling  schemes  for  so- 
cial betterment  were  being  hatched  from  day  to 
day.  Sooner  or  later  they  all  came  up,  in  some 
form  or  other,  in  the  Field  circle,  for  debate. 
What,  then,  did  I  know  about  socialism,  the  sin- 
gle tax,  social  democracy,  and  the  labor  move- 
ment? 

One  night  in  the  office  at  East  Deerfield,  the 
necessity  for  a  comprehensive  course  of  reading 
to  take  in  nearly  all  of  these  subjects,  dawned 
upon  me.  I  distinctly  remember  every  detail  of 
that  night's  work  and  thought.  Being  Saturday 
night  and  Sunday  morning,  there  was  little  or  no- 
thing on  the  road.  I  wrote  everything  down  — 
the  topics,  the  authors,  as  many  as  I  could  call  to 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES       121 

mind,  and  the  ideas,  so  far  as  my  knowledge  ex- 
tended at  the  time,  and  somewhat  as  it  is  all  out- 
lined above.  I  remember  the  first  passenger  train 
from  the  West,  the  "Albany,"  was  just  whistling 
into  Greenfield  when  I  finished  my  programme. 

With  me  it  is  not  now  a  case  of  recalling  with  an 
effort  this  incident  or  that  experience ;  every  step 
of  my  intellectual  development  at  East  Deerfield 
is  as  well  remembered  as  the  exciting  details  of  an 
African  hunting  trip.  This  fact  remains,  then, 
that  I  went  to  work  and  covered,  as  thoroughly  as 
I  could,  the  literary  ground  outlined  in  the  fore- 
going sketch  of  my  ambitions. 

During  this  period  I  also  paid  considerable  at- 
tention to  the  works  of  Shakespeare.  To  begin 
with,  my  delight  in  his  genius  was  of  a  religious 
nature.  Although  I  still  read  my  Bible  occasion- 
ally, I  no  longer  had  the  opportunity  to  attend 
church  services,  and  in  some  way  Shakespeare 
seemed  to  bring  my  religious  instincts  and  faith 
into  practical  contact  with  people  and  modern 
life,  to  a  degree  that  in  my  experience  had  never 
been  reached  by  the  Bible.  One  of  my  favorite 
topics  at  the  time  was  the  religion  of  Shakespeare 
as  it  illuminated  human  interests  from  the  bot- 
tom to  the  top  of  the  scale.  There  was  no  preach- 
ing in  this  religion :  it  consisted  of  vivid  word-pic- 
tures and  the  impressions  I  derived  from  them.  I 
used  to  call  attention  to  a  series  of  these  religious 


122    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

pictures  in  the  ascending  order  of  their  import- 
ance, somewhat  as  follows. 

I  began  with  the  glorification  of  physical  form 
and  expression.  For  example,  I  took  a  certain 
degree  of  religious  pleasure  in  the  struggle  and 
methods  of  the  brave  swimmer  beating  the  surges 
under  him  and  riding  upon  their  back,  as  de- 
scribed by  Francisco  in  "The  Tempest."  Then 
again,  that  hymn  of  the  horse  in  "Venus  and 
Adonis,"  ending,  — 

"  Look,  what  a  horse  should  have,  he  did  not  lack, 
Save  a  proud  rider  on  so  proud  a  back,"  — 

seemed  to  give  spiritual  sanction  to  my  devotion 
to  animal  life.  From  this  lower  plane  the  religion 
of  Shakespeare  ascended  in  terrace  above  terrace 
of  ethical  significance.  Coriolanus  and  all-sacri- 
ficing mother-love,  the  victory  of  childish  plead- 
ing over  cruelty  and  brute  force  in  the  scene  be- 
tween Arthur  and  Hubert  in  "King  John";  the 
"quality  of  mercy"  passage  in  "The  Merchant  of 
Venice";  the  flashlight  interpretation  of  the  hu- 
man conscience,  so  vividly  depicted  as  a  knocking 
at  the  gate,  in  "Macbeth";  these  scenes  all  came 
home  to  me  as  religious  lessons  applied  to  the  hard- 
pan  of  everyday  human  conditions. 

And  then  again,  unmistakable  in  its  usefulness 
to  me  at  the  time,  was  the  chapel  scene  in  "Ham- 
let," with  its  graphic  analysis  of  a  soul  laid  bare 
on  the  pillory  of  repentance.    Finally,  in  all  the 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES       123 

grandeur  of  its  social  and  religious  interpretation, 
came  the  study  of  "The  Tempest."  To  my  mind, 
at  the  time,  this  play  was  more  than  a  poet's 
dream  of  moral  and  social  regeneration.  It  pointed 
to  chaos  as  the  inevitable  outcome  of  all  govern- 
ment without  spiritual  guidance  and  discipline  of 
individuals.  Calibans,  Stephanos,  and  scheming 
political  Antonios,  are  forever  and  everywhere  at 
war  with  Prospero  and  his  celestial  agencies. 

This  study  of  Shakespeare  was  a  three-cornered 
undertaking  carried  on  between  the  book  in  my 
oflSce,  the  theatres  in  Boston,  and  the  Field  farm. 

During  my  stay  at  East  Deerfield  I  worked,  for 
the  most  part  on  the  night-shift,  for  something 
like  eight  dollars  a  week.  I  saved  a  little  money  in 
those  days.  Once  in  a  while  a  proposition  was 
made  in  regard  to  an  increase  of  salary,  but  I  told 
the  authorities  not  to  bother  about  it  and  they 
did  not.  I  had  plans  of  my  own,  and  seclusion  on 
that  night  job  with  its  opportunity  for  study  and 
thought  was  absolutely  essential.  In  course  of 
time,  however,  the  night  job  was  abolished,  and  I 
was  glad  to  fall  heir  to  the  day  work  at  the  same 
place. 

But  the  old  office  at  night  had  for  me  a  strange 
fascination.  I  got  into  the  habit  of  returning  there 
in  the  evening  for  the  purpose  of  reading  and  lis- 
tening to  the  business  on  the  wire.  Frequently  I 
remained  at  my  desk  until  one  or  two  o'clock  in 


124    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

the  morning.  The  train-dispatcher  soon  became 
accustomed  to  my  presence,  and  sometimes  asked 
questions  about  trains.  One  night  he  gave  an 
emergency  signal  and  asked  me  to  rush  down  the 
yard  with  my  red  light.  I  succeeded  in  stopping 
the  train,  but,  returning  through  the  yard  in  a 
hurry,  I  fell  into  an  open  culvert,  and  did  not  wake 
up  until  daylight.  When  the  superintendent  heard 
of  it  he  said  he  would  not  forget  it,  and  he  kept  his 
word. 

But  it  was  just  about  this  time  that  what  is 
called  telegrapher's  cramp  attacked  my  right 
hand,  and  it  then  took  me  several  months  of  con- 
stant application  to  bring  my  left  hand  into  serv- 
ice and  working  order.  Moreover,  after  my  fall 
into  the  culvert,  my  health  began  to  show  signs  of 
long-continued  physical  and  mental  strain,  so  I 
determined  to  take  a  vacation. 

I  went  to  Boston  and  secured  an  outfit  of  pil- 
low-sham holders  and  started  out,  on  foot,  to 
stock  the  State  of  New  Hampshire  with  my  mer- 
chandise. The  venture  was  a  great  success  so  far 
as  my  health  was  concerned. 

In  about  three  months  I  returned,  and  met  the 
superintendent  of  the  Fitchburg  Railroad  on  the 
station  platform  at  Fitchburg.  I  told  him  I  was 
ready  to  return  to  work.  He  replied,  "All  right, 
and  you  may  jump  on  the  first  pay  car  that  comes 
your  way:  there  is  something  coming  to  you."   I 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES       125 

did  so,  and  drew  in  a  lump  sum  full  pay  for  every 
day  of  my  three  months'  absence. 

This  superintendent  was  one  of  those  unforget- 
table men  of  the  old  school,  who  "never  made  a 
mistake."  One  night,  while  listening  to  the  wire 
at  East  Deerfield,  I  heard  him  call  attention  to 
this  fact  in  unmistakable  language.  In  giving  an 
order  to  an  engine  to  "run  wild,"  a  train-dis- 
patcher had  forgotten  to  warn  the  engineman  to 
"look  out  for  a  snow-plough  ahead";  conse- 
quently there  was  a  smash-up.  The  dispatcher 
told  his  chief  about  it  on  the  wire  and  added,  "We 
are  all  liable  to  mistakes."  The  superintendent,  a 
dispatcher  himself  for  twenty  years,  got  hold  of 
the  key  and  told  the  man  what  he  thought  of  such 
philosophy  in  the  railroad  business.  He  concluded 
the  dialogue  in  this  way :  "  I  never  made  a  mistake 
in  my  life  and  never  intend  to.  Come  to  Boston  in 
the  morning." 

This  was  the  man,  Mr.  E.  A.  Smith,  from  whom 
I  derived  all  my  ideas  of  duty  and  efficiency  in  the 
railroad  service.  He  retired  from  active  duties  a 
few  months  ago.  Forty-five  years  or  so  without  a 
mistake  is  a  pretty  good  railroad  record. 

But  before  leaving  East  Deerfield,  I  wish  to 
mention  another  railroad  man  to  whom,  probably 
without  his  knowledge,  I  was  very  much  in- 
debted. He  was  the  civil  engineer  who  was 
double-tracking  the  Fitchburg  Railroad  at  the 


126    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

time  between  Fitchburg  and  Greenfield.  He  is 
still  among  us  somewhere.  The  first  time  I  saw 
him  he  was  standing  on  an  abutment  of  a  washed- 
away  bridge  over  the  Millers  River,  near  Erving, 
I  think  it  was.  It  was  somewhere  round  midnight. 
He  was  watching  the  effect  of  the  rushing  waters 
on  the  temporary  trestle  that  had  just  been  con- 
structed. The  energy  and  limitless  resource  of 
this  man  while  building  the  old  Fitchburg  Rail- 
road made  a  tremendous  impression  upon  me. 

Between  Erving  and  Millers  Falls,  on  what  is 
now  the  Boston  and  Maine  Railroad,  on  the  right 
side  going  west,  at  or  near  the  place  where  several 
turns  in  the  river-bed  were  cut  out,  there  stands 
in  a  vacant  space  a  huge  shaft  of  earth  which  is 
pointed  out  to  you  by  railroad  men  as  "Turner's 
Monument."  His  real  monument,  however,  was 
the  men  he  left  behind  him  to  continue  his  per- 
sonal work  and  policy  in  nearly  every  department 
of  the  service.  They  are,  to-day,  everywhere  dis- 
tinguished among  their  fellows. 

In  course  of  time  this  railroad  engineer  became 
superintendent  of  the  division.  His  headquarters 
were  in  Fitchburg.  He  was  a  stalwart  individualist 
—  so  it  seemed  to  me,  at  any  rate.  He  believed 
in  personal  contact.  His  own  private  room  in  a 
Fitchburg  hotel  was  the  sanctum  into  which  the 
men  whom  he  sometimes  selected,  or  intended  to 
promote,   were   invited,    usually   on   a   Sunday 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  EIGHTIES       127 

morning.  My  turn  came  for  an  invitation  of  this 
nature.  In  brief,  an  interlocking  tower  had  been 
installed  at  West  Cambridge;  for  such  and  such 
reasons,  he  requested  me  to  take  one  of  the  shifts. 
Without  any  hesitation  I  accepted  the  appoint- 
ment for  two  or  three  very  good  reasons.  In  the 
first  place,  it  was  to  be  a  change  from  a  twelve-  to 
an  eight-hour  situation;  secondly,  it  would  bring 
me  near  Boston,  the  libraries,  the  lecture  plat- 
forms, and  the  churches;  and  thirdly,  by  reason  of 
these  shorter  hours  and  the  change  of  location,  I 
expected  to  be  able  to  devote  more  time  and  study 
to  the  great  social  and  industrial  problems  of  the 
day,  to  which,  at  this  time,  I  was  beginning  to 
direct  my  attention. 


MEN  AND  CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS 


In  the  autumn  of  the  year  1886,  I  left  East 
Deerfield  and  entered  upon  my  new  duties  in  the 
switch  tower  at  West  Cambridge,  Massachusetts. 
From  a  position  paying  forty  dollars  a  month,  with 
a  minimum  working-day  of  twelve  hours,  I  passed 
into  employment  that  paid  a  wage  of  thirteen 
dollars  a  week,  with  a  minimum  daily  service  of 
eight  hours.  I  went  to  work  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
early  morning  and,  as  a  rule,  I  finished  my  labors 
for  the  day  when  the  clock  struck  ten  in  the  fore- 
noon. The  middle  man  followed  from  ten  a.m. 
until  six  P.M.,  and  the  third  man  then  finished  the 
round  of  the  twenty-four  hours.  It  did  not  seem 
to  occur  to  the  superintendent  in  those  days,  or 
to  the  towermen  themselves,  for  that  matter,  that 
this  division  of  the  working-day  was  an  unreason- 
able and  unbusinesslike  arrangement.  It  was  cer- 
tainly a  hardship  for  the  men  at  West  Cambridge 
who  lived  at  some  distance  from  the  tower.  But 
then  we  were  working  for  a  railroad  on  which  duty 
was  limitless  and  regulated  only  by  the  require- 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        129 

ments  of  the  service  and  the  judgment  of  the  su- 
perintendent. For  several  years,  under  this  ar- 
rangement, I  walked  to  my  work,  a  distance  of 
nearly  two  miles,  between  one  and  two  o'clock  in 
the  morning. 

This  working  arrangement  at  West  Cambridge 
may  be  taken  as  a  fair  illustration  of  the  kind  of 
intelligence,  or  whatever  it  may  be  called,  that 
was  engaged  in  the  railroad  business  in  those 
days.  I  cannot  look  upon  the  situation  as  much  of 
a  reflection  on  the  good  will  or  executive  ability 
of  managers.  The  smallest  business  concern,  as 
well  as  the  largest,  appeared  to  be  on  the  same 
industrial  and  moral  level  in  this  respect.  Nor 
can  the  silence  or  indifference  of  the  worker  at  the 
time  be  judged  from  the  standpoint  of  to-day, 
when  rights  and  wrongs  of  every  description  are 
subject  to  constant  and  fearless  discussion. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  certainly  an  injustice,  as  I 
have  noted,  to  request  a  man  to  walk  to  his  work 
at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  without  some  stated 
and  clearly  understood  reason.  The  superin- 
tendent was  supposed  to  have  this  reason,  and 
there  the  matter  ended.  Later,  when  the  intelli- 
gence of  men,  managers,  and  society  broadened, 
a  fairer  division  of  the  working-day  was  put  into 
efiFect. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  the  specific  in- 
stance of  inconvenience  to  which  I  have  referred 


130    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

was  only  a  drop  in  the  bucket  compared  with  the 
general  situation  of  which  it  was  a  part.  For  vari- 
ous reasons,  these  hardships  were  particularly  ag- 
gravated on  railroads,  although  the  employes  had 
actually  to  be  educated  to  an  appreciation  of  this 
fact.  For  example,  my  shift  of  eight  hours  was 
liable  at  any  time  to  be  extended  to  sixteen  or 
twenty-four  without  a  cent  of  extra  remuneration. 
In  such  cases  I  simply  said  to  myself,  "That's 
just  my  luck,"  and  I  was  only  one  among  thou- 
sands of  employes  who  took  matters  philosophi- 
cally in  this  way. 

Quite  recently,  discussing  this  matter  with  Mr. 
E.  A.  Smith,  who  was  a  train  dispatcher  and  as- 
sistant superintendent  on  the  Fitchburg  Rail- 
road for  many  years  before  I  entered  the  service, 
he  remarked:  "Why,  there  is  Miss  Carter,  the 
present  telegraph  operator  at  Athol:  she  has  filled 
that  position  faithfully  and  without  mistake  of 
any  description  for  something  like  forty-five 
years.  I  am  well  within  the  mark  when  I  say  that 
hundreds  of  times  during  that  long  period  of  serv- 
ice, she  went  to  work  in  that  ofiBce  at  six  o'clock 
on  Sunday  mornings  and,  relief  operators  failing 
to  appear,  she  kept  it  up  until  midnight  on  Mon- 
days without  a  word  of  protest.  During  this  long 
period  she  handled  not  only  important  train  or- 
ders and  other  railroad  business,  but  also  all  the 
message  work  of  the  Western  Union  Telegraph 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        131 

Company.  This  position  was  worth  forty  dollars 
a  month  to  Miss  Carter.  There  were  no  extras  or 
perquisites  connected  with  her  work,  but  if  she 
happened  to  be  sick  for  a  day  the  pay  for  that  day 
was  deducted  from  her  salary  at  the  end  of  the 
month.  From  the  business  of  the  Western  Union 
Telegraph  Company  alone  the  railroad  probably 
benefited  to  many  times  the  amount  of  the  salar- 
ies paid  to  the  operators.  Overtime,  in  those  days, 
was  never  given  a  thought.  It  had  simply  not 
been  invented,  for  the  same  psychological  and 
commercial  reasons,  I  suppose,  that  the  safety 
bicycle  had  not  then  superseded  the  awkward  and 
dangerous  fly  wheel." 

Of  course,  a  situation  of  this  kind  could  not  con- 
tinue indefinitely  in  any  form  of  progressive  so- 
ciety. Superintendents  and  others,  who  were 
called  upon  to  mingle  with  the  employes  and  dis- 
cuss these  conditions,  gradually  awoke  to  the  in- 
justice of  the  situation,  and  in  many  directions, 
under  pressure,  I  confess,  were  the  first  to  initi- 
ate reforms. 

I  call  to  mind  the  first  payment  for  overtime  I 
ever  received.  I  was  the  most  surprised  individual 
on  the  Fitchburg  Railroad.  The  company  was  in- 
stalling a  switch  tower  at  Waltham,  and  I  was  re- 
quested, after  my  day's  work  at  West  Cambridge 
was  over,  to  go  to  that  place  and  break  in  two  or 
three  green  men  so  that  they  might  be  ready  for 


132    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

their  duties  on  the  completion  of  the  new  plant. 
The  following  week,  when  I  counted  my  money  at 
the  little  window  in  the  pay  car,  I  was  simply 
dumfounded.  I  did  not  exactly  feel  like  walking 
off  with  something  that  did  not  rightfully  belong 
to  me,  so  I  raised  the  half-guilty  look,  with  which 
I  was  surveying  the  wealth  in  my  hand,  to  the 
countenance  of  the  paymaster.  Both  he  and  his 
assistant  were  highly  amused  at  my  dilemma. 
Then  one  of  them  good-naturedly  said  to  me, 
"Move  on,  Fagan,  that's  all  right."  But  the  af- 
fair did  not  end  there.  Some  one  of  the  higher  of- 
ficials, I  understand,  caught  sight  of  the  item  on 
the  pay-roll,  and  called  for  an  explanation.  I  have 
good  reason  for  thinking  that  the  matter  was 
finally  settled  by  the  superintendent  making  good 
the  amount  out  of  his  own  pocket. 

But  while  the  industrial  lot  of  telegraph  and 
tower  men  in  those  days  was  particularly  distress- 
ing, judging  it  from  present  standards  of  justice, 
the  situation  in  the  train  service  was  very  much 
worse.  I  recall  a  typical  case  at  East  Deerfield. 
One  day,  in  mid-winter,  Conductor  Parks  walked 
into  my  ofiice.  His  daily  routine  was  to  run  a 
freight  train  from  East  Deerfield  to  Ashburnham 
Junction  and  return.  This  was,  barring  accidents, 
a  reasonable  day's  work;  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances he  could  make  the  trip  in  something  like 
ten  hours.    On  the  occasion  I  now  refer  to,  Con- 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        133 

ductor  Parks  and  his  train  had  been  snow-bound 
and  otherwise  tied  up  at  various  places  on  the  road 
for  forty-eight  hours.  I  told  him  I  thought  it  was 
"pretty  hard  lines."  His  reply  was  something 
like  this:  "Oh,  that's  nothing.  Look  at  poor  old 
Hobbs !  They  took  his  engine  away  from  him  yes- 
terday to  help  a  passenger  train  up  Royalston 
grade.  He  is  still  side-tracked  at  that  point  wait- 
ing for  the  return  of  his  engine." 

n 

Before  describing  my  actual  duties  in  the  switch 
tower  at  West  Cambridge  and  the  features  con- 
nected with  these  duties  that  developed  and 
guided  my  progress  in  other  directions,  I  am 
going  to  touch  briefly  on  the  accident  situation  in 
those  early  days,  for  the  reason  that  the  problem 
itself  had  much  to  do,  not  only  with  my  own  per- 
sonal career,  but  with  industrial  improvement 
among  railroad  men  in  general.  So  far  as  respon- 
sibility for  accident  was  concerned,  the  manager, 
the  employe,  and  the  public  were  all  in  the  same 
box.  There  was  probably  quite  as  much  social  con- 
science concerned  in  the  matter  then  as  now,  but 
it  was  unorganized  and  leaderless.  There  was 
absolutely  no  publicity,  at  the  time,  in  regard  to 
the  details  of  railroad  life,  either  in  Massachusetts 
or  elsewhere.  In  the  fierce  hurry  of  the  times  the 
public  mind  was  absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of 


134    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

statistics  relating  to  railroad  mileage  and  the  ex- 
pansion of  trade.  Nevertheless,  it  was  a  very 
serious  state  of  affairs  from  any  point  of  view, 
and  during  the  time  of  my  service  at  East  Deer- 
field  if  the  church  bells  had  been  rung  every 
time  a  human  being  was  killed  or  injured  on  Amer- 
ican railroads,  it  seems  to  me  they  would  have 
been  kept  tolling  almost  incessantly.  In  my  own 
narrow  circle  of  acquaintances,  eighteen  con- 
ductors were  killed  or  injured  in  one  year,  and  on 
an  average,  one  engineman,  one  fireman,  two  con- 
ductors, and  six  brakemen  every  month  in  the 
year.  A  trainman,  in  those  days,  with  eight  fin- 
gers and  two  thumbs  was  a  rarity. 

By  common  consent  at  the  time,  sympathy  and 
interest  of  every  description  in  this  accident  situa- 
tion seemed  to  be  focused  on  what  was  known  as 
the  "paper."  This  was  a  popular  collection  for 
the  benefit  of  unfortunates.  During  my  experi- 
ence on  the  railroad  at  East  Deerfield,  there  was 
hardly  a  week  in  which  one  of  these  papers  was 
not  in  circulation  in  the  neighborhood.  The  pay- 
car  was  the  headquarters  for  many  of  these  ap- 
peals, and  the  superintendent  himself  frequently 
headed  the  list  of  subscribers.  Mr.  E.  K.  Turner, 
who,  as  engineer  and  some  of  the  time  as  super- 
intendent, was  double-tracking  the  road  at  the 
time,  was  a  strict  disciplinarian,  and  men  were 
frequently  discharged  by  him  simply  "for  cause," 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        135 

on  five  minutes'  notice.  But  this  stern  feature 
of  his  administration  was  buried  in  universal  re- 
spect for  the  official  who  never  missed  an  oppor- 
tunity to  put  down  his  name  on  these  circulars 
for  a  "five." 

It  must  not  be  imagined,  however,  that  this 
distressing  accident  situation  was  the  result  of 
widespread  carelessness  on  the  part  of  the  em- 
ployes. Both  rules  and  equipment  at  the  time 
were  actually  unknown  quantities.  Everything 
was  in  the  experimental  stage,  and  every  change 
for  the  better  was  nearly  always  the  result  or  the 
price  of  some  bitter  experience.  With  the  sam.e 
consecration  to  duty  to-day  as  then,  the  modern 
accident  problem  would  lose  its  significance.  In- 
deed, as  a  matter  of  fact,  carelessness  in  those 
days  was  frequently  more  of  a  reflection  on  man- 
agement, or  rather  on  the  science  of  railroading 
at  the  time,  than  on  the  conduct  of  employes. 
An  illustration  of  this  point  will  not  be  out  of 
place. 

One  night  at  East  Deerfield  I  received  orders 
from  the  train  dispatcher  to  get  out  an  extra  en- 
gine to  help  train  number  ninety-four.  This  en- 
gine, with  the  figures  "94"  displayed  on  its  head- 
light, immediately  took  up  a  position  in  the  yard 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  that  train.  Meanwhile 
another  train,  number  ninety-three,  moving  in 
the  opposite  direction,  on  single  track,  had  re- 


136    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

ceived  orders  to  meet  number  ninety-four  at 
East  Deerfield.  In  a  few  minutes  number  ninety- 
three  came  along,  and,  catching  sight  of  the  fig- 
ures ninety-four  on  the  headlight  of  the  helping 
engine,  the  engineer  mistook  this  helper  for  the 
regular  train  he  was  to  meet  and  kept  on  his  way. 
One  of  the  most  disastrous  freight  wrecks  in  the 
history  of  the  road  was  the  result.  Nowadays 
helping  engines  never  display  numbers  until 
they  are  actually  hitched  to  a  train.  Such,  at  any 
rate,  is  the  history  of  a  rule,  and  its  reflection  on 
the  foresight  or  education  of  management. 

It  seems  to  me  there  was  less  real  carelessness 
on  the  railroads  in  those  days  than  at  any  time 
since.  It  is  true  the  material  was  crude  and  in- 
experienced, and  men  were  turned  loose  on  their 
jobs  without  any  examination,  physical  or  other- 
wise, in  regard  to  qualifications.  All  over  the 
country  these  men,  by  the  score,  were  being 
trapped  and  killed  by  the  overhead  bridge,  the 
"link-and-pin"  device,  and  the  open  frog.  Then, 
after  years  of  bitter  experience,  came  the  auto- 
matic coupler,  the  bridge  guard,  and  the  blocked 
frog.  Meanwhile,  out  of  the  debris  of  this  dis- 
tressing situation,  a  new  and  more  intelligent 
class  of  railroad  men  was  emerging.  It  is  with 
the  history  of  this  new  class,  then  beginning  to 
organize,  among  whom  my  own  lot  was  cast,  that 
I  am  now  concerned.  Under  inconceivable  dif- 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        137 

ficulties  they  served  the  pubHc  and  their  employ- 
ers faithfully  and  well.  To  these  men  belongs 
most  of  the  credit  for  pointing  out  the  defects  in 
the  service,  and  thus  paving  the  way  for  reforms 
which  soon  put  the  railroad  business  in  America, 
for  a  time  at  least,  on  a  sane  and  safe  basis.  To 
accomplish  their  ends  these  men,  this  better  class 
of  newcomers,  determined  to  organize. 

During  my  term  of  service  at  East  Deerfield, 
this  great  labor  movement  for  the  bettering  of 
working  and  financial  conditions,  or  at  least  its 
undercurrent,  was  in  full  swing.  Of  course  it  was 
not  a  local  issue,  but  an  enterprise  of  national 
significance.  Already  in  the  Western  States, 
under  the  leadership  of  the  Knights  of  Labor,  it 
had  repeatedly  manifested  itself  in  riotous  de- 
monstrations. But  in  New  England,  though  the 
general  aims  were  similar,  the  human  material 
engaged  in  the  struggle  was  different. 

As  it  came  under  my  observation  at  East 
Deerfield,  the  movement  was  a  reasonable  revolt 
against  the  intolerable  state  of  affairs  which  I 
have  described,  and  it  was  being  engineered  by 
men  of  my  acquaintance  who  were  far  from  be- 
ing unlawfully  inclined.  The  idea  of  organiza- 
tion for  the  common  good  was  taking  firm  hold 
of  their  common  sense  and  intelligence,  and  it 
spread  rapidly  among  enginemen,  firemen,  con- 
ductors, brakemen,  and  switchmen.   These  men, 


138    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

at  that  time,  wanted  reasonable  pay,  fair  treat- 
ment, safety  in  operation  and,  at  the  same  time, 
in  a  marked  degree,  they  desired  the  respect  and 
good  will  of  the  managers  and  the  public.  This 
situation  was  slowly  evolving  under  my  eyes  at 
East  Deerfield.  From  day  to  day  for  several 
years  it  continued  to  work  out,  very  unobtrus- 
ively, it  is  true,  until  finally  it  came  to  the  sur- 
face. In  the  round-house,  in  the  caboose,  in  the 
telegraph  office,  wherever  two  or  three  men  came 
together,  there  was  a  never-ending  discussion  of 
the  vital  issues  of  conditions  and  wages.  At  the 
same  time  there  was  no  end  of  talk  and  exchange 
of  opinions  going  on  about  rules,  mechanical  and 
personal  safeguards,  and  the  general  improve- 
ment of  the  service.  In  these  discussions,  loyalty 
to  the  old  Fitchburg  Railroad  was  an  ever-pre- 
sent and  distinguishing  feature.  This  was  act- 
ually the  atmosphere  in  which  I  worked  at  East 
Deerfield.  To  interest  the  public  and  the  man- 
agement in  these  betterment  schemes,  without 
losing  their  jobs,  was,  to  begin  with,  the  burden 
of  the  railroad  labor  movement  in  New  England, 
according  to  my  diagnosis.  But  management  in 
New  England,  taking  its  cue  from  the  demonstra- 
tions that  were  accompanying  the  movement  in 
some  of  the  western  States,  was  antagonistic  to 
the  men,  while  public  opinion,  as  is  usual  when  a 
political  complication  in  the  distance  is  fore- 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        139 

shadowed,  was  on  the  fence  awaiting  develop- 
ments. 

To-day,  however,  thinking  the  matter  over 
carefully  at  a  time  when  the  strike  is  quite  as  con- 
spicuously the  weapon  of  the  well-to-do  and 
splendidly  conditioned  railroad  man  as  of  under- 
paid and  otherwise  less  fortunate  workers  in 
other  industries,  I  naturally  ask  myself  what  has 
become  of  that  well-disposed  body  of  men,  and  of 
that  splendid  movement  whose  beginnings  ap- 
peared to  me,  at  East  Deerfield,  to  be  so  full  of 
industrial  and  social  inspiration.  It  must  be  re- 
membered that  society  and  management  in  those 
days  threw  these  workers  back  upon  their  own 
resources,  and  to  them,  that  is,  to  the  employes, 
almost  exclusively  belongs  the  credit  for  a  series 
of  reforms  and  material  betterments  on  railroads 
that  is  probably  unexampled  in  industrial  his- 
tory. If,  then,  along  these  same  lines  of  advance, 
workers  all  over  the  country  are  now  taking 
advantage  of  impregnable  economic  positions, 
and  are  openly  converting  exaggerated  private 
rights  into  pronounced  public  wrongs,  the  his- 
tory of  the  beginnings  of  this  movement,  as  it 
came  under  my  observation  on  the  railroads,  and 
as  I  am  now  trying  to  describe  it,  cannot  fail  to 
be  interesting. 

During  the  early  eighties,  the  new  era  on  rail- 
roads and  elsewhere,  with  brotherhood  and  liu- 


140    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

manity  at  the  helm,  was  coming  on  apace.  From 
my  individualistic  point  of  view,  these  ideas  of 
humanity  and  brotherhood  were  being  trans- 
lated by  the  social  conscience  of  America  into 
terms  almost  exclusively  of  economic  value  and 
significance.  That  there  was  and  is  social  and 
industrial  danger  in  this  one-sided  attitude  goes 
without  saying. 

Ill 

It  is  impossible  for  me  at  this  time  to  follow  in 
detail  the  progress  of  the  labor  movement  on  the 
railroads,  as  it  came  under  my  observation.  But 
the  following  account  of  my  service  in  the  signal 
tower  at  West  Cambridge  will,  I  think,  serve  to 
illustrate  and  illuminate  many  of  its  interesting 
features.  The  principal  points  to  be  noticed  will 
be  the  individualistic  character  of  a  part  of  my 
surroundings,  and  the  careful,  conscientious,  and 
socially  successful  career  of  employes  who  were 
permitted  to  labor  in  that  kind  of  an  atmosphere. 

In  the  switch  tower  at  West  Cambridge  be- 
tween midnight  and  six  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
there  is  usually  plenty  of  time  for  reading,  writing, 
or  study.  Side  work  of  this  kind,  of  course,  is  not 
definitely  sanctioned  by  the  management.  In  fact, 
any  practice  that  interferes,  or  is  likely  to  inter- 
fere with  the  towerman's  duties,  is  an  infringement 
of  the  general  rules  of  the  company.   For  thirty 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        141 

years  I  have  lived  up  to  the  spirit  of  these  rules 
without  paying  much  attention  to  the  letter.  To 
compel  a  man  on  a  night  job  of  this  kind  simply 
to  pose  in  a  waiting  attitude,  perhaps  for  an  hour 
at  a  time,  would  be  profitless  discipline. 

In  a  general  way  the  towerman's  duties  may 
briefly  be  described  under  a  few  definite  and  in- 
teresting heads.  In  the  first  place,  a  thorough 
understanding  of  the  book  of  rules  and  the 
current  time-tables  is  absolutely  essential.  This 
knowledge  must  be  supplemented  by  unfaltering 
attention  to  the  clicking  of  the  telegraph  wires, 
and  to  the  ringing  of  the  various  track  bells.  In 
reality,  these  sounds,  relating  to  the  movement 
of  trains,  are  heard,  or  rather  felt,  without  any 
effort  in  the  way  of  listening,  while  the  towerman 
is  throwing  a  combination  on  his  machine,  or  ex- 
plaining a  situation  to  a  trainman.  In  the  same 
way  an  expert  telegraph  operator,  without  any 
effort,  can  read  a  message  on  his  sounder,  mani- 
pulate his  key,  and  answer  the  inquiries  of  pa- 
trons at  the  office  window. 

In  my  own  case  this  dissociation  of  routine 
work  from  literary  or  other  enterprises  in  which 
my  mind  was  at  the  time  engaged,  is  a  phase  of 
my  educational  experience  in  which  I  have  al- 
ways been  profoundly  interested.  One  day,  quite 
accidentally,  it  occurred  to  me  that  this  lever- 
throwing   was,   in   some   curious   way,  a  great 


142    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

intellectual  stimulant.  Its  immediate  effect  was  to 
bring  my  subconscious  knowledge  or  ingenuity  to 
the  surface.  I  pursued  this  inspirational  method 
for  years,  and,  after  a  while,  every  attempt  of 
the  kind  was  like  an  excursion  into  dreamland. 
When  at  a  loss  for  a  word  or  an  illustration  of  any 
kind,  the  answer  was  usually  forthcoming  after 
an  exciting  round  or  two  at  the  levers.  The 
greater  the  stress  of  business,  and  the  louder  the 
rattle  of  the  trains,  or  the  ringing  of  the  bells, 
which  a  sort  of  unconscious  half  of  me  was  at- 
tending to  with  scrupulous  fidelity,  the  keener 
became  the  intellectual  activity  of  my  other  half, 
which,  at  the  same  time,  was  busy  with  other  in- 
terests. It  was  simply  a  sort  of  singing  at  my 
work,  and  when  anything  happened  to  disturb 
the  harmonious  progress  of  the  two  parallel 
operations  the  charm,  of  course,  was  broken. 
Immaterial  conversation  or  noises,  however,  were 
unheeded.  One  day  during  or  after  a  scene  of  this 
kind,  one  of  the  boys  exploded  a  cannon  cracker 
under  my  chair.  I  suppose  I  heard  it,  but  that 
was  all. 

But  coming  back  to  the  everyday  situation,  and 
apart  from  this  mental  acuteness  which,  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  his  responsible  duties,  the  average  tower- 
man  acquires,  an  absolutely  faultless  manipula- 
tion of  the  levers  of  the  interlocking  machine  is 
called  for  in  conjunction  with  the  exercise  of 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        143 

sound  judgment  in  all  matters  that  relate  to  the 
movement  of  the  trains. 

There  are  sixty  levers  in  the  switch  tower  at 
West  Cambridge.  Every  lever  is  numbered.  A 
series  of  these  numbers,  or  the  levers  they  repre- 
sent, thrown  in  a  given  rotation,  constitutes  a 
route.  Every  route  that  is  set  up  in  this  way  for 
the  passage  of  a  train  is  isolated,  as  it  were,  and 
protected  from  trains  passing  or  crossing  on  other 
routes.  The  mechanical  intelligence  that  domin- 
ates the  situation  in  the  tower,  and  unites  every 
train  and  every  employe  within  the  tower  zone  in 
a  bond  of  safety,  is  located  behind  the  machine  in 
a  bed  of  long  steel  rods  and  cross-bolts,  called  the 
"locking."  In  preparing  the  routes,  and  in  giv- 
ing signals  for  the  movements  of  trains,  what  may 
be  called  the  conscience  of  the  machine  is  fre- 
quently brought  into  play.  When  the  operator 
takes  hold  of  and  attempts  to  pull  a  lever  wrong- 
fully, to  which  act,  in  some  form,  danger  is  at- 
tached, he  invariably  finds  the  forbidden  move- 
ment absolutely  locked  against  his  effort.  He  has 
been  actually  detected  in  an  attempt  to  make  a 
mistake,  and  the  effect  on  the  towerman's  con- 
science at  the  time  is  more  acute  than  a  repri- 
mand from  his  superintendent.  The  nervous 
strain  on  a  beginner  in  one  of  these  switch  towers 
is  considerable,  but  once  he  has  become  thoroughly 
broken  in  and  conversant  with  the  mechanical 


144    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN   INDIVIDUALIST 

part  of  his  duties,  his  confidence  in  the  machine 
becomes  unHmited,  and  he  is  able  to  concentrate 
his  mind,  almost  exclusively,  on  the  disposition  of 
his  trains  and  on  other  matters,  according  to  the 
nature  and  strength  of  his  faculties. 

But  while  the  above  is  a  fair  description  of  the 
situation  in  a  switch  tower  at  the  present  day,  it 
by  no  means  covered  the  field  of  work  at  West 
Cambridge  at  the  time  I  entered  the  service.  The 
most  disagreeable  part  of  the  work  in  those  days 
was  outdoors.  We  were  called  upon,  just  when  we 
could  and  how  we  could,  to  clean,  oil,  and  adjust 
the  switches.  For  this  purpose  we  were  supplied 
with  a  kit  of  tools.  The  lamp  or  signal  depart- 
ment was  also  in  our  charge.  There  were  some- 
thing like  fifty  signal  lamps  to  be  cleaned,  filled, 
and  placed  in  position  on  high  poles  and  low 
standards.  In  this  way  a  track  circuit  of  two  or 
three  miles  had  to  be  covered  twice  a  day.  To  ac- 
complish this  work  we  took  flying  trips  from  the 
tower,  between  trains,  as  opportunity  offered. 

IV 

From  these  signal-tower  duties  in  which  for 
twenty-five  years  I  was  almost  continuously  en- 
gaged, I  turn  now  to  the  little  community  of 
workers  at  West  Cambridge.  I  divide  these  work- 
ers into  two  groups.  First,  the  train  and  engine- 
men,  who  were  not  fixtures,  as  it  were,  at  West 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        145 

Cambridge,  but  on  train  trips  and  otherwise  were 
frequent  visitors  at  the  tower,  and  at  all  times  as- 
sociated with  its  activities.  As  I  remember  these 
train  employes,  and  have  elsewhere  described 
them,  they  had  been,  in  their  early  railroad  expe- 
rience, individualists  both  by  instinct  and  in- 
clination; but  just  about  the  time  I  arrived  at 
West  Cambridge  their  condition,  financial  and 
otherwise,  was  improving  with  almost  incredible 
swiftness.  Their  organizations  were  becoming 
political  factors,  and  political  society  was  begin- 
ning to  prick  up  its  ears  and  get  busy  about  them. 
To  illustrate  the  situation  in  the  case  of  this  first 
group  of  railroad  men  and  its  treatment  by  society 
in  those  days  of  dawning  prosperity,  I  will  take 
the  case  of  Conductor  Breakers. 

This  interesting  railroad  man  was  conductor  of 
a  train  crew  that  did  most  of  the  switching  in  the 
railroad  territory  around  Cambridge  in  the  early 
days  of  my  service  at  that  point.  He  was  a  man  of 
the  old  school,  who  had  been  in  the  fight  for  better 
conditions  on  railroads  from  the  beginning.  One 
day  Mr.  Breakers  said  to  me,  "  When  I  entered  the 
railroad  service,  thirty  years  ago,  I  moved  from 
Charlestown  to  Cambridge  wuth  all  my  worldly 
possessions  on  a  wheelbarrow."  With  the  passage 
of  time,  and  as  the  position  of  this  man,  financially 
and  otherwise,  improved,  a  very  curious  state  of 
affairs  in  regard  to  his  duties  began  to  develop. 


146    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDmDUALIST 

The  situation  simply  arose  from  the  application  of 
current  business  morality  to  the  affairs  of  a  rail- 
road. Just  as  soon  as  business  and  political  inter- 
ests began  to  move  in  behalf  of  the  railroad  em- 
ploye, and  to  take  notice  of  his  rising  importance, 
his  industrial  integrity  was  endangered.  For  ex- 
ample, it  made  little  difference  to  the  Fitchburg 
Railroad  Company  whether  factory  "A"  or  fac- 
tory "B"  received  the  first  visit  from  the  switch 
engine  in  the  morning,  but  as  soon  as  the  pro- 
prietors or  foremen  of  a  dozen  factories  began  to 
bribe  the  conductor  in  order  to  secure  priority  of 
service  a?id  other  favors,  a  quiet  system  of  graft 
was  introduced  that  finally  developed  into  a  most 
astonishing  state  of  affairs.  For  a  time  the  con- 
ductor in  question  avoided  and  tried  to  dodge  the 
temptation;  but  the  pressure  was  too  great,  and 
he  ended  by  working  the  situation  for  all  it  was 
worth,  and  in  his  hands  it  proved  to  be  worth  a 
good  deal.  Before  long,  from  one  of  the  largest 
plants  in  the  neighborhood  he  was  in  receipt  of  a 
regular  salary.  From  other  firms,  at  intervals,  he 
received  donations  of  pocket-money,  hams,  milk, 
wood,  coal,  and  ice,  according  to  his  requirements, 
and  if  he  needed  anything  in  the  way  of  hardware 
or  pottery,  all  he  had  to  do  was  to  visit  the  fac- 
tories and  help  himself.  After  a  while,  in  collect- 
ing these  assessments,  in  which  the  whole  train 
crew  sometimes  shared,  the  conductor  enlisted  the 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        147 

services  of  one  of  his  brakemen  —  this  man  had 
nearly  as  many  side  lines  as  the  conductor.  His 
job  on  the  railroad,  however,  did  not  prevent  him 
from  being,  at  the  same  time,  a  call  member  of  the 
Cambridge  Fire  Department. 

But  opportunity  and  encouragement  for  enter- 
prises of  this  kind  could  not  be  confined  to  the 
limits  of  a  freight  yard  or  a  single  city.  The  con- 
ductor soon  entered  the  political  arena.  Every 
once  in  a  while  he  took  a  trip  to  Washington  in  the 
interests  of  a  post-master,  a  congressman,  or  a 
senator.  Then  the  management  of  the  Fitchburg 
Railroad  itself  got  mixed  in  the  muddle.  Just  how 
no  man  could  tell,  for  Breakers  went  around  with 
his  finger  on  his  lips  saying  "Hush"  to  everybody. 
His  little  trips  to  Washington  and  elsewhere 
did  not  interfere  in  any  way  with  the  pay  that  was 
coming  to  him  every  week,  as  conductor  of  the 
switcher.  This  was  certainly  a  very  strange  state 
of  affairs.  But  the  most  demoralizing  effect  of  po- 
litical and  other  interference  in  the  railroad  busi- 
ness has  yet  to  be  mentioned. 

One  afternoon,  the  switch  engine  with  a  few 
cars,  in  charge  of  this  conductor,  taking  a  flying 
trip  into  the  city,  hit  the  rear  of  an  express  pas- 
senger train  ahead,  wihch  had  slowed  up  a  little  at 
Somerville.  It  was  on  the  programme  to  dis- 
charge the  entire  crew,  but  Conductor  Breakers 
pulled  too  many  strings.    Until  the  men  were 


148    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

quietly  returned  to  their  jobs,  the  oflBce  of  the 
superintendent  was  besieged  with  delegation 
committees  and  professional  people  representing, 
it  was  calculated,  fully  a  third  of  the  voting  popu- 
lation of  Charlestown.  I  was  able  to  keep  track  of 
these  events  pretty  closely  from  the  fact  that  dur- 
ing this  period  I  was  acting  as  clerk  to  the  super- 
intendent of  the  road,  and  as  such  I  had  charge  of 
the  pay-rolls  and  had  every  opportunity  to  take 
note  of  the  proceedings.  But  I  never  met  a  man 
who  could  say  that  he  was  able  to  fathom  the 
mystery  of  Conductor  Breakers  and  his  manoeu- 
vres. His  lack  of  education  was  a  bar  to  his  per- 
sonal preferment.  His  specialty  was  getting  jobs 
for  other  people,  or  making  them  believe  he  was 
busy  in  their  interests.  This,  it  seems,  was  suf- 
ficient, in  railroad  and  political  circles,  at  any  rate, 
to  keep  nearly  everybody  in  tow. 

This  situation,  of  course,  is  bygone  history,  but 
it  gives  one  a  good  idea  how  questionable  prac- 
tices began  on  railroads.  It  also  illustrates  the 
share  which  society  itself  had  in  the  encourage- 
ment of  practices  which  are  now  being  so  strenu- 
ously condemned. 

V 

The  second  group  of  railroad  men  at  West 
Cambridge  was  altogether  of  a  different  class  or 
variety.  Surely  there  must  have  been  something 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        149 

industrially  healthy  and  significant  in  the  situa- 
tion when  we  come  to  consider  that,  regardless  of 
conditions  and  wages  at  this  point  on  the  railroad, 
a  dozen  workers  held  together  year  in  and  year 
out,  and  can  now  show  records  ranging  from 
twenty  to  forty  years  of  unbroken  and  satisfac- 
tory service.  A  questionable  situation,  I  suppose, 
to  some  progressive  people  who  recognize  no  con- 
dition as  sound  that  is  not  forever  on  the  jump 
toward  something  different  and  prospectively 
better.  Such  people  have  little  appreciation  for 
conditions  or  individuals  in  this  world  that  wisely 
slow  up  or  stand  still  for  inspirational  purposes. 
But  apart  from  all  comment  on  the  situation,  the 
facts  themselves  at  West  Cambridge  are  decidedly 
interesting. 

All  told,  there  were  seven  trackmen,  two  gate- 
men,  and  three  towermen  in  this  little  group.  The 
towermen  received  about  thirteen  dollars  a  week, 
the  others  about  eight  dollars.  There  were  seven 
days  in  the  working- week,  but  remuneration  for 
work  on  Sunday  in  those  days  was  definitely  for- 
bidden by  orders  from  headquarters.  To  find  the 
amount  that  was  due  for  work  of  a  single  day, 
however,  the  weekly  wage  was  invariably  divided 
by  seven. 

While  the  working  conditions  of  the  towerman, 
then,  considering  the  importance  of  his  duties, 
were  not  altogether  satisfactory,   those  of  the 


150    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

trackmen,  of  course,  were  very  mucli  worse.  And 
yet  the  results  under  these  conditions,  both  to  so- 
ciety and  to  the  railroad,  were  certainly  remark- 
able. The  record  of  each  individual  in  this  group 
of  workers  was  about  the  same  as  my  own,  and  so 
I  am  speaking  for  the  group  when  I  say  that  per- 
sonally, in  thirty  years'  service,  I  never  received  a 
letter,  or  was  asked  a  single  question  that  could  be 
construed  into  a  reflection  on  conduct  or  work. 
Industrially,  under  conditions  which,  in  pari, 
I  have  described,  the  records  of  these  men  were 
all  right;  socially  they  were  still  better. 

Of  the  original  group,  with  possibly  one  excep- 
tion, each  individual  owns,  or  did  own,  his  little 
home.  One  of  these  men,  a  trackman,  actually 
built  the  frame  of  his  dwelling-house  himself. 
The  families  of  these  workers  ranged  from  three 
to  ten  children  to  the  household;  most  of  these 
children  are  now  grown  up  and  can  hold  their 
own  with  any,  it  matters  not  who  they  may  be, 
in  the  community.  These  children  grew  up  under 
my  eyes.  They  were  well  fed,  well  clothed,  well 
housed,  well  educated,  and  perfectly  healthy.  It 
is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the  best  results  were 
derived  from  the  lowest  wage  and  the  keenest 
struggle.  Leaving  the  towermen  out  of  the  cal- 
culation, the  results  I  have  mentioned  were  ob- 
tained on  a  weekly  income,  per  individual,  of  less 
than  eight  dollars. 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RxVILROADS        151 

Once  upon  a  time  one  of  these  men  had  a  case 
in  court.  He  owned  a  tenement  house  in  Somer- 
ville,  and  his  case  had  something  to  do  with  the 
collection  of  his  rents.  Referring  to  his  low  wages 
and  his  real  estate  holdings,  the  Judge  put  this 
question  to  him, —  "How  do  you  do  it.'*"  The 
man  answered, —  "Your  Honor,  that's  my 
secret." 

In  industrial  circles,  as  elsewhere,  secrets  of 
this  kind  have  usually  a  good  deal  to  do  with  the 
character  and  disposition  of  the  "boss."  The 
section  foreman  at  West  Cambridge  was  and  is, 
in  many  'sfays,  a  remarkable  man.  As  I  look  at 
it,  the  force  of  his  unassuming  yet  strong  per- 
sonality kept  a  gang  of  men  together  for  some- 
thing like  a  quarter  of  a  century.  He  is  the  great- 
est living  compliment  to  the  principles  of  indus- 
trial honesty  that  I  ever  met.  He  is  strict  in  a 
way,  yet  he  never  scolds.  He  is  a  tall,  rugged 
man  of  the  Lincoln  type,  just  as  much  at  home 
among  his  men  digging  out  the  switches  in  the 
teeth  of  a  blizzard  of  snow  as  he  is  in  the  com- 
pany of  notables  at  a  Masonic  gathering.  Among 
his  fellows  on  the  railroad,  to  mention  Delvy  is 
to  praise  him. 

Because  it  will  conduct  me  along  the  lines  of 
my  own  progress  at  West  Cambridge,  and  at  the 
same  time  throw  a  little  light  on  the  "secrets"  of 
these  rugged  personalities  in  railroad  life,  I  shall 


152    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

try  to  draw  pen  portraits  of  some  of  Delvy's 
men. 

To  begin  with,  there  is  Mat.  He  is  now  sec- 
ond hand  on  the  job;  a  very  quiet  fellow,  some- 
what undersized,  big-hearted,  and  a  bachelor. 
From  childhood  he  has  lived  with  his  widowed 
mother.  Report  has  it  he  remains  single  for  her 
sake.  Mat  is  a  born  optimist.  He  looks  at  every- 
thing through  honest  eyes.  In  a  variety  of  little 
and  big  ways,  at  work  and  in  the  community,  he 
is  the  conscience  of  the  gang. 

John,  on  the  other  hand,  is  large  of  frame  as 
Mat  is  slight.  He  is  a  ruddy-faced  man,  squarely 
built,  and  his  voice  has  a  deep  musical  ring.  He 
works  like  a  clock,  methodically  and  religiously. 
John  is  a  king  of  tampers.  He  sets  the  pace,  di- 
rects the  energy,  and  supplies  the  good  nature. 
There  is  music  in  tamping  ties,  and  John  was  a 
splendid  conductor.  One  day  a  rail  in  the  bend- 
ing, held  high  in  the  air,  slipped  in  some  way, 
and  came  down  with  fearful  crash  on  John's 
thigh.  It  was  a  long  lay-off  in  the  hospital  and  at 
home,  but  finally  he  limped  back  to  his  work.  He 
said  the  railroad  had  been  good  to  him.  All  bills 
had  been  paid  and  quite  a  little  something  was 
left  over  in  his  pocket. 

The  third  man,  Lucy,  is  the  Nestor  of  the  gang. 
Up  to  the  last  he  was  a  splendid  worker.  Some 
time  ago  his  age  became  known  to  the  authori- 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS         153 

ties,  and,  besides,  infirmities  developed  and  then 
Delvy  himself  could  n't  save  him.  For  quite  a 
while  after  his  removal  he  frequently  turned  out 
with  the  boys  in  the  morning  and  followed  them 
to  their  work.  Seating  himself  by  the  side  of  the 
track  he  smoked  the  hours  away,  watching  the 
proceedings  achingly.  No  Rachel  ever  wept  for 
her  children  as  this  man  lamented  the  loss  of  his 
job.  He  is  now  finishing  off  his  very  useful  ca- 
reer as  gateman  on  a  crossing. 

Sampson  is  a  strong  and  healthy-looking 
French-Canadian.  He  is  unusually  vigorous  and 
active  for  a  laboring-man  over  sixty.  His  spe- 
cialty is  chopping.  He  is  the  woodsman  of  the 
gang.  His  axe  is  quite  a  feature  on  the  section. 
He  peels  ties,  keeps  the  brush  down,  and  fells  trees 
when  necessary.  As  it  seemed  to  me  at  times, 
watching  and  listening,  he  always  made  the 
morning  hours  feel  glorious  with  the  ring  and 
crack  of  his  hatchet. 

The  next  man,  Harkins,  is  the  millionaire  of  the 
group.  The  habit  of  saving  pennies  and  turning 
them  over  and  over  again  in  a  variety  of  little 
ways,  in  the  house,  in  the  garden,  and  in  gen- 
eral domestic  economy,  brought  about  aston- 
ishing results  in  the  end.  He  is  the  reputed  owner 
of  a  block  of  houses  in  Somerville,  and  is  soon 
going  back  to  the  old  country  to  buy  an  estate. 

Finally,  there  is  Dan.    His  arrival  at   West 


154    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

Cambridge  preceded  my  own  by  a  year  or  two. 
At  all  times  he  seemed  to  have  his  work  on  his 
mind,  and  at  night, 'in  stormy  weather,  he  fre- 
quently came  down  to  the  tower  of  his  own  ac- 
cord, just  to  assure  himself  that  everything  was 
in  good  working  order.  To  begin  with,  he  was  a 
section  hand  pure  and  simple.  His  duty  was,  in 
part,  to  walk  over  and  inspect  a  section  of  track 
the  first  thing  in  the  morning  and  the  last  thing 
at  night.  He  and  his  family  had  the  West  Cam- 
bridge *' secret,"  in  a  marked  degree.  It  con- 
sisted of  all  sorts  of  little  economies,  even  to  the 
extent  of  picking  up  waste  lumber,  splitting  ties 
for  fuel  and  working  at  all  sorts  of  odd  jobs  in  the 
neighborhood  at  the  break  of  dawn,  and  some- 
times far  into  the  night.  In  all  kinds  of  work  the 
children  lent  a  hand.  Then  there  were  hens  and 
a  little  gardening  as  side  lines,  and  besides,  when 
it  came  to  a  pinch,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  the  boys 
could  cobble  their  own  shoes,  and  the  only  daugh- 
ter in  the  family  could  make  her  own  dresses.  It 
is  easy  to  understand  what  a  quantity  of  char- 
acter was  wrapped  up  in  a  situation  of  this  kind. 
In  the  process  of  improving  working  conditions 
by  organization  and  otherwise,  is  it  possible  to 
retain  the  sterling  characteristics  for  which  Dan 
and  his  type  were  distinguished  .^^  Will  education 
and  industrial  enlightenment  take  care  of  the 
issue.?  The  world  to-day  is  asking  this  question. 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        155 

In  course  of  time  Dan's  duties  on  the  railroad 
became  more  responsible,  but  there  was  no 
change  for  the  better  in  his  income.  When, 
thanks  to  the  efforts  of  their  brotherhood,  the 
towermen  were  reHeved  of  all  outdoor  duties  at 
West  Cambridge,  Dan  fell  heir  to  the  adjusting 
tools,  the  lamps,  and  the  oil  cans.  In  this  way, 
quite  frequently  nowadays,  the  man  lower  down 
feels  the  pinch  of  a  *' raise"  or  a  lift  higher  up. 
But  Dan  and  his  fellows  kept  right  along  plod- 
dingly. His  natural  ability  and  ingenuity  along 
mechanical  lines  were  remarkable.  His  educa- 
tional opportunities,  however,  had  been  few.  In 
fact,  in  some  directions,  he  was  decidedly  super- 
stitious. Somehow  I  always  looked  upon  this 
characteristic  as  one  of  his  virtues.  In  actual  con- 
tact with  life  his  superstition  was  of  as  much 
practical  value  as  libraries  of  book  learning  are 
to  some  other  people.  This  is  philosophy  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  facts.  In  dealing  with  his  fel- 
low men  Dan  was  as  honest  as  the  hills  are  solid. 
His  superstition  had  something  to  do  with  his  be- 
havior. In  the  course  of  years  of  track-walking, 
it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  Dan  picked  up, 
in  the  aggregate,  two  or  three  hundred  dollars  in 
the  form  of  cash  and  jewelry.  As  it  seemed  to 
me,  he  was  always  unaccountably  restless  until 
the  property  was  safely  returned  to  the  owners. 
Dan's  philosophy  of  honesty  was  unique    as 


156    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

well  as  refreshing.  One  day  he  explained  its 
fundamentals  to  me  somewhat  as  follows:  In  the 
old  country,  when  he  was  a  boy,  as  a  fee  for  carry- 
ing a  trunk,  a  gentleman  in  a  hurry  thrust  a  coin 
into  his  hand.  When  Dan  got  home  he  found  a 
sovereign  in  his  pocket.  As  Dan  looked  at  it,  the 
man,  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  had  made  a  mis- 
take. By  rights  the  coin  should  have  been  a  shill- 
ing. For  several  days  the  gold  piece  actually 
burned  in  his  pocket.  But  what  could  he  do? 
And,  besides,  he  was  sadly  in  need  of  a  new  pair 
of  shoes.  After  a  week  of  mental  distress  he  fin- 
ally purchased  a  pair.  As  he  was  leaving  the 
store,  he  stumbled  over  a  black  cat.  This  put  the 
finishing  touch  to  his  mental  agitation.  But  he 
could  not  work  in  his  bare  feet,  so  the  boots  had 
to  be  worn.  As  Dan  tells  the  story,  the  first 
day  he  wore  them  the  boots  were  fairly  comfort- 
able; the  second  day  they  pinched  a  little;  on  the 
third,  they  were  positively  painful;  and  then, 
after  spending  the  fourth  day  in  agony,  he  placed 
the  cursed  things  in  a  bag  with  a  rock  for  a  weight 
and  threw  them  into  the  lake.  From  that  day 
Dan's  ideas  of  the  sacred  rights  of  property  were 
unshakable. 

But  Dan  was  one  of  nature's  humorists,  as 
well  as  a  preceptor  of  morals.  For  years,  just  be- 
fore going  to  work  in  the  morning,  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  paying  a  flying  visit  to  the  tower  to 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        157 

snatch  a  glance  at  the  newspapers.  Dan  had  a 
habit  of  reading  the  headlines  out  loud,  with  a 
comment  or  two  slipped  in  between.  He  invar- 
iably began  with  the  weather  report,  the  heading 
of  which,  as  Dan  read  it  out  loud,  was  always  as 
follows:  "For  Boston  and  vacancy." 

Dan  was  also  the  regulator  of  the  tower  clock, 
and  once  in  a  while  came  in  to  adjust  what  he 
called  its  "penundulum."  Furthermore,  he  had 
some  knowledge  of  herbs  and  wild  flowers  and 
possessed,  among  other  medicinal  secrets,  an  in- 
fallible remedy  for  "information  of  the  bladder." 

VI 

But  apart  from  questions  relating  to  charac- 
ter and  its  conservation,  which  naturally  come  to 
the  front  from  my  description  of  the  rugged  and 
ready  material  engaged  in  the  railroad  business 
at  East  Deerfield  and  West  Cambridge,  there  is 
another  feature  of  the  situation  that  is  also  of 
universal  importance;  I  refer  to  the  conservation 
of  authority. 

At  a  time  when  the  attitude  of  powerful  labor 
organizations  toward  discipline  on  railroads  was 
being  freely  discussed  in  the  public  prints,  Mr. 
Roosevelt,  then  President,  wrote  this  little  ser- 
mon on  the  subject: — 

"The  wage- worker  who  does  not  do  well  at  his 
job  shows  he  lacks  self-respect.  He  ought  to  wish 


158    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  , OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

to  do  well  because  he  respects  himself.  Remem- 
ber, too,  that  ordinarily  the  rich  man  cannot 
harm  you  unless  you  harm  yourself.  If  you  are 
satisjQed  with  your  standard  of  living  until  some- 
body else  comes  in  with  a  higher  standard  of  liv- 
ing, then  the  harm  the  other  man  has  done  to  you 
comes  because  of  your  own  yielding  to  weakness 
and  envy.  If  your  heart  is  stout  enough  you 
won't  feel  it. 

"The  labor  union  has  done  great  and  needed 
work  for  the  betterment  of  the  laboring-man; 
but  where  it  has  worked  against  his  individual  ef- 
ficiency as  a  worker  it  has  gone  wrong,  and  the 
wrong  must  be  remedied.  On  railroads,  for  in- 
stance, we  should  not  tolerate  any  interference 
with  the  absolute  right  of  a  superintendent  to  dis- 
charge a  man.  There  should  be  no  requirement  to 
show  cause.  The  man  who  is  a  little  ineflficient  or 
a  little  careless,  and  is  left  in  the  service,  is  apt 
finally  to  be  responsible  for  some  great  disaster; 
and  there  should  not  be  the  slightest  interference 
or  attempted  interference  with  the  right  of  a 
superintendent  to  turn  such  a  man  out.  Where  a 
labor  union  works  to  decrease  the  average  ef- 
ficiency of  the  worker,  it  cannot  in  the  long  run 
escape  being  detrimental  to  the  community  as  a 
whole,  and  in  the  real  interest  of  organized  labor, 
this  should  not  be  permitted." 

In  the  light  of  the  facts  as  they  are  to-day,  rail- 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        159 

road  men  will  certainly  not  look  upon  this  little 
sermon  as  a  very  progressive  announcement.  Be 
this  as  it  may,  I  wish  to  make  Mr.  Roosevelt's 
ideas  on  the  conservation  of  authority  the  text  of 
this  final  section  of  this  chapter. 

Of  course  this  autobiography  should  be,  in  the 
main,  an  experience  and  not  an  argument.  Never- 
theless, the  story  would  certainly  lose  most  of  its 
significance  if  the  writer  lacked  convictions,  or 
failed  to  take  to  himself,  and  when  possible  to  im- 
part to  others,  as  best  he  could  according  to  his 
light,  the  lessons  to  be  derived  from  passing  events. 

Combining  a  consideration  of  public  problems, 
then,  with  the  history  of  my  personal  progress  in 
the  surroundings  of  a  switch  tower,  I  turn  again, 
very  briefly,  to  what  may  be  called  the  adven- 
tures of  Dan.  From  the  early  East  Deerfield  days, 
this  man,  representing  industrial  integrity,  was 
the  type  which  at  any  rate  formed  the  ground 
plan  of  the  service  with  which  I  was  associated. 
Society,  of  course,  is  interested  in  perpetuating 
the  characteristics  of  this  type,  and  directly  in 
line  with  the  desires  and  efforts  of  society  in  this 
direction  come  these  problems  connected  with 
authority. 

Dan,  then,  was  not  only  socially  and  industri- 
ally successful,  but  he  was  also  a  hero.  In  the  year 
1893, 1  think  it  was,  a  heavy  freight  train  crashed 
into  and  telescoped  a  passenger  train  right  in 


160    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

front  of  the  station  at  West  Cambridge.  Five  pas- 
sengers were  killed  and  about  thirty  were  seri- 
ously injured.  A  signal  and  a  flag  were  against  the 
freight  train,  but  they  were  both  unseen  or  disre- 
garded. Dan,  who  lived  only  a  few  yards  from  the 
station,  heard  the  crash  and  hurried  to  the  scene. 
The  engine  of  the  freight  train  ploughed  its  way 
clear  through  the  rear  coach  and  was  belching  a 
torrent  of  steam  into  the  next  one  ahead,  when 
Dan,  disregarding  the  warning  shouts  of  the  by- 
standers, scrambled,  with  a  coat  over  his  head, 
into  the  blazing  coach.  While  the  crowd  hung 
back,  terror-stricken,  Dan  dragged  a  number  of 
women  and  young  people  to  safety  through  the 
hissing  steam.  In  after  days,  notably  at  Christ- 
mas-time, he  received  tokens  of  thankful  remem- 
brance from  many  of  these  people,  and  in  this  way 
his  personal  satisfaction  in  his  own  deed  has  been 
kept  alive  from  year  to  year. 

To  the  men  in  the  signal  tower  at  West  Cam- 
bridge, however,  this  collision  of  trains,  with  re- 
sulting loss  of  life,  was  no  mystery.  They  knew 
all  about  the  signals,  the  flags,  and  the  conditions 
under  which  they  were  operated.  They  were  also 
daily  witnesses  of  the  efforts  of  the  management, 
in  the  interests  of  safety,  to  enforce  the  principle 
of  implicit  obedience  in  the  face  of  a  rising  tide  of 
aggressive  industrial  assertiveness  which,  at  the 
time,  was  backed  up  in  various  ways  by  public 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        161 

opinion.  In  this  particular  instance  the  coroner, 
one  or  two  judges,  and  the  newspapers  united  in 
placing  all  the  blame  for  the  accident  upon  the 
management  of  the  railroad.  The  fact  was  lost 
sight  of  that  every  railroad  in  the  country  was  suf- 
fering from  the  same  trouble  at  the  same  time, 
with  similar  results. 

No  substitute  has  been  proposed  by  these  or 
any  other  critics,  to  take  the  place  of  obedience  to 
rules  and  the  exercise  of  authority  in  connection 
therewith.  Be  this  as  it  may,  this  accident  at 
West  Cambridge  was  used  as  a  test  case,  and  au- 
thority was  driven  to  the  wall.  In  the  words  of  the 
then  general  superintendent  of  the  Fitchburg 
Railroad:  "The  newspapers  and  the  public  may 
know  how  to  run  a  railroad,  but,  with  such  handi- 
caps, I  certainly  do  not." 

Some  time  after  this  accident  at  West  Cam- 
bridge I  left  the  tower  service  for  a  while,  and  was 
appointed  clerk  to  the  superintendent  of  the  divi- 
sion, whose  office  was  in  Boston.  I  held  the  posi- 
tion for  about  eighteen  months  and  was  then  sent 
back  to  the  tower.  I  was  removed  from  this  posi- 
tion for  the  same  reason,  I  suppose,  that  Mr. 
Hartwell,  the  superintendent,  was  also  before 
long  relieved  of  his  duties.  In  a  word,  we  were  be- 
hind the  times.  The  distinction  between  the  old 
and  the  new  idea  in  management  was  fundamen- 
tal. For  example,  Mr.  Hartwell,  on  one  occasion. 


162    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDI\1DUALIST 

eliminated  a  man  who  was  in  the  habit  of  running 
recklessly  round  curves.  The  new  solution  of  this 
problem  in  discipline  is  to  eliminate  the  curve. 
Not  so  long  ago,  an  accident  at  Bridgeport, 
Connecticut,  on  the  New  Haven  Railroad,  was 
doctored  by  the  courts  and  the  newspapers  in  this 
way. 

Mr.  Hartwell,  however,  was  a  disciplinarian, 
and  withal  a  splendid  railroad  man,  from  the 
ground  up.  In  all  cases  that  came  up  for  promo- 
tion, he  always  insisted  upon  a  thorough  examina- 
tion of  each  candidate.  In  order  to  be  trusted 
with  a  train,  every  applicant  had  to  pass  Mr. 
Hartwell's  personal  inspection.  When  that  old- 
time  superintendent  left  the  service  a  dozen  or 
more  men  were  on  his  unavailable  list.  At  the 
present  day,  thanks  to  the  seniority  rule,  practi- 
cally every  man  qualifies,  and  accidents  eliminate 
the  weaklings. 

Some  time  before  Mr.  Hartwell's  retirement 
from  the  service,  a  certain  train  crew,  with,  or  in 
charge  of,  a  crowded  passenger  train,  left  the 
North  Station  in  Boston.  The  men  neglected  to 
make  the  air  test  before  starting;  consequently 
the  train  barely  escaped  a  plunge  into  an  open 
"draw."  Mr.  Hartwell  discharged  the  train  crew, 
just  as  the  law  would  have  deprived  a  pilot  of  his 
license  for  needlessly  running  his  ship  upon  the 
rocks.    But  the  superintendent's  word  was  not 


CONDITIONS  ON  THE  RAILROADS        163 

final.  A  number  of  influences  were  set  to  work  on 
behalf  of  the  men,  and  in  a  month  the  crew  was 
sent  back  to  work  by  order  of  the  highest  execu- 
tive officer  on  the  railroad,  who,  by  the  way,  at 
the  time  was  seeking  a  military  appointment  at 
the  hands  of  the  governor,  and  was  soliciting  poli- 
tical indorsement.  It  detracts  in  no  way  from  the 
importance  of  the  issues  that  managers  at  times 
conspired  to  defeat  their  own  interests. 

However,  I  got  it  into  my  head  at  the  time  I 
was  working  in  Mr.  Hartwell's  office  that  society 
was  deeply  interested  in  these  two  problems  of  the 
conservation  of  character  and  authority,  and  it 
became  increasingly  evident  to  me  that  the  issues 
were  as  vitally  concerned  with  educational  and 
religious  matters  as  with  the  railroad  business. 
So  I  returned  to  the  switch  tower  with  the  deter- 
mination to  study  these  problems,  and  quietly  to 
start  a  sort  of  personal  campaign  in  their  behalf 
with  my  pen. 


VI 

THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  MODERN  INDUSTRY 


During  the  years  1896  and  1897,  while  I  was  at 
work  in  the  office  of  the  superintendent  of  the 
Fitchburg  Railroad  in  Boston,  my  prospects  and 
work  in  life  were  waiting,  so  to  speak,  for  a  mental 
decision  on  my  part  of  the  simplest  kind.  I  was 
called  upon  either  to  get  into  harmony  with  a  cer- 
tain popular  movement  in  business  life  or  remain 
on  the  outside  as  a  mere  spectator.  Without  any 
trouble  at  all  I  could  have  placed  myself  in  the 
swim  and  taken  my  chances  with  this  new  system 
that  was  just  then  beginning  to  develop  all  over 
the  country  in  industrial  circles.  The  situation 
can  be  described  in  a  very  few  words. 

On  the  one  hand  there  was  the  scientific  organi- 
zation of  workingmen,  and  on  the  other  hand  there 
was  the  scientific  organization  of  the  details  of  the 
laboring  process  and  of  methods  of  management. 
While  at  the  time  my  understanding  of  the  situa- 
tion was  somewhat  narrow,  nevertheless  it  was 
soon  impressed  upon  me,  in  a  number  of  practical 
ways,  that  a  great  change  was  about  to  take  place 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY  165 

in  the  status  of  the  individual  whether  as  a  worker 
or  as  a  manager. 

But  just  at  this  point  in  my  business  career 
when  I  was  looking  over  the  field  and  trying  to 
figure  in  some  way  on  my  future  in  the  railroad 
business,  I  happened  to  be  in  a  peculiar  mental 
condition.  I  was  actually  making  a  study  of  my 
mind,  and  in  the  course  of  this  study  I  had  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  in  order  to  preserve  my  in- 
dividuality, it  would  be  necessary  for  me  to  treat 
my  mind  as  I  would  my  business  or  my  body;  that 
is  to  say,  I  was  called  upon  to  direct  its  energies 
and  superintend  its  activities. 

I  look  upon  the  occasion  when  first,  in  a  practi- 
cal way,  this  idea  of  mind  study  took  hold  of  me 
as  a  red-letter  day  in  my  history.  It  occurred 
during  the  break  in  my  signal-tower  service  when 
I  was  employed  in  the  office  of  the  superintendent 
of  the  Fitchburg  Railroad  in  Boston.  This  story 
of  my  mental  occupation  and  interests  deserves 
more  than  a  passing  notice,  for  the  line  of  thought 
was  closely  related  to  the  practical  happenings 
that  followed. 

For  a  number  of  years  I  had  been  attending  the 
evening  classes  at  the  Young  Men's  Christian 
Union  in  Boston,  and  one  evening,  at  a  discus- 
sion club,  I  took  part  in  a  debate  on  temper- 
ance. I  had  made  a  special  study  of  the  subject 
for  the  occasion  from  the  mental  point  of  view. 


166    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST. 

and  no  one  was  more  surprised  than  myself  at 
the  interesting  and  instructive  outcome  of  my 
investigation. 

Let  me  suppose,  for  the  sake  of  my  argument, 
I  said  to  my  clubmates,  that  for  a  year  or  two  I 
have  been  in  the  habit  of  drinking  every  day  a  few 
glasses  of  beer.  In  course  of  time  this  beer-drink- 
ing habit  became  a  well-established  feature  of  my 
daily  routine.  But  my  disposition  was  such  that, 
as  time  went  by,  I  was  not  altogether  satisfied 
with  my  conduct  or  with  the  waste  of  money  that 
soon  became  a  very  significant  feature  of  my  beer- 
drinking  career.  So  I  went  to  work  and  read  a 
good  deal  on  the  subject  and  then  talked  the  mat- 
ter over  fearlessly  and  confidentially  with  friends. 
Before  long  my  eyes  began  to  open  and  my  inter- 
est to  intensify. 

This  brain  of  mine,  I  discovered,  consists  of 
what  is  called  two  hemispheres,  one  to  the  right 
and  the  other  to  the  left  in  the  human  skull.  One 
of  these  hemispheres,  though  composed  of  ex- 
actly the  same  material  as  the  other,  never  does 
any  work,  or  receives  any  sensations.  A  right- 
handed  man  always  uses  the  left  brain,  a  left- 
handed  man  uses  the  right  hemisphere.  Studying 
the  matter  more  closely,  I  then  discovered  that 
the  brain  never  shows  any  signs  of  life  or  activ- 
ity unless  or  until  some  sensation  or  thought  is 
applied  to  it  from  the   outside.     My  brain,  it 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY  167 

seems,  is  exactly  like  a  violin.  Not  a  sound  can 
you  get  out  of  it  except  in  response  to  outside 
pressure  with  which  the  violin  itself  has  abso- 
lutely nothing  to  do.  Now  the  mind  is  the  bearer 
of  thought  messages  to  the  brain  as  the  bow  is  the 
bearer  of  sound  messages  to  the  violin.  And  there 
is  no  message  in  all  the  range  of  human  life  and 
experience  that  this  brain  of  mine  is  not  able  to 
take  care  of  and  reproduce  in  the  shape  of  lan- 
guage, sight,  hearing,  artistic  ideas,  or  physical 
action.  All  these  ideas  and  functions  have  their 
home  in  the  brain  when  once  they  have  been 
placed  there  by  repeated  sensation  and  the  ac- 
tion of  the  human  mind. 

In  continuing  my  studies  it  soon  dawned  upon 
me  that  with  my  first  glass  of  beer  I  deliberately 
went  to  work  and  hired  a  small  area  or  tiny  quan- 
tity of  gray  matter  in  my  brain  and  devoted  it  to 
the  interests  of  the  saloon.  As  time  went  on,  the 
route,  that  is  to  say,  the  avenue  of  nerves  between 
my  mind  and  the  little  bed  of  gray  matter  in  my 
brain  devoted  to  beer-drinking  interests  became 
a  well-beaten  thoroughfare.  On  account  of  its 
frequent  use  it  grew  in  size  and  importance  among 
brain  activities  and  it  was  continually  calling 
upon  the  mind  to  pay  attention  to  its  interests 
and  consequently  to  forget  and  desert  others.  In 
this  way  the  incessant  call  of  the  beer  developed, 
in  course  of  time,  into  an  actual  brain  itch,  and 


168    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

the  mind,  disturbed  and  excited  by  the  persist- 
ent irritation,  never  lost  an  opportunity  to  take 
possession  of  my  legs  and  march  me  off  to  the 
saloon. 

But  just  when  affairs  seemed  to  be  at  their 
worst  another  factor  put  in  its  appearance.  I, 
who  had  been  studying  this  brain  question,  sud- 
denly awoke  and  said  to  myself.  What  is  this 
brain  and  what  is  this  mind  that  they  should  pre- 
sume to  order  me  around  in  this  fashion.'^  The 
brain  and  the  mind  are  my  servants,  my  Will  is 
their  master.  For  the  future  I  propose  to  run 
this  business  to  suit  myself.  No  longer  shall  my 
mind  continue  to  use  the  beer  route  to  my  brain, 
to  ruin  my  personality.  In  other  words,  I  am  the 
director  and  overseer  of  my  own  fortunes.  My 
personality  is  king  of  mind  routes  and  brain  areas 
and  so  to  begin  with  I  will  now  go  right  to  work 
and  change  my  mind  in  regard  to  this  beer-drink- 
ing habit.  And  thus,  when  I  actually  compelled 
the  mind  to  neglect  the  beer  route  to  the  brain,  a 
notable  change  took  place.  The  beer  route  con- 
tracted from  lack  of  attention  and  exercise,  other 
and  healthier  routes  robbed  it  of  its  function  and 
importance,  and  before  long  my  mind  was  in  a 
normal  condition. 

This  study  of  the  mind  had  more  than  a  pass- 
ing effect  on  my  fortunes.  It  increased  the  in- 
clination  I   already   possessed   to   consider   all 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY  169 

phases  of  life  from  a  personal  viewpoint,  and  it 
opened  my  eyes  to  the  practical  relationship  that 
exists  at  all  times  between  the  mind  and  every- 
day conduct  and  habits. 

Such,  at  any  rate,  was  the  individualistic  spirit 
with  which  I  looked  on  my  surroundings  while 
I  was  at  work  in  the  superintendent's  office.  The 
conclusions  I  arrived  at,  by  means  of  this  study, 
emphasized  the  personal  factor  in  every  problem 
and  renewed  my  attachment  to  the  men  on  the  rail- 
road with  whom  I  was  associated  and  to  the  prin- 
ciples they  represented.  I  refer  now  to  the  actual 
workers,  such  as  foremen,  trainmen,  and  super- 
visors, who,  of  course,  were  in  no  way  respons- 
ible for  the  general  policy  of  the  railroads. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  at  the  time  great  changes 
were  being  inaugurated  all  over  the  country  both 
in  method  of  operation  and  in  matters  of  manage- 
ment. For  one  thing,  the  accident  situation  was 
at  last  attracting  a  little  attention,  abuses  in 
many  directions  were  being  discussed,  and  a  new 
generation  of  wide-awake  employes  were  coming 
to  the  front  and  receiving  a  hearing.  In  course 
of  time,  as  part  of  this  overturn  on  the  Fitch- 
burg  Railroad,  the  superintendent  and  the 
office  force,  of  which  I  was  a  part,  went  out  in  a 
body.  I  was  just  close  enough  to  the  manage- 
ment and  sufficiently  familiar  with  the  aims  of 
employes  to  understand  the  nature  of  this  over- 


170    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

turn.  I  did  not  look  at  the  matter  from  the  view- 
point of  the  politician  or  the  philosopher.  I  sim- 
ply knew  that  a  certain  class  of  men  of  sterling 
character  and  unquestioned  ability  were,  with 
practically  no  excuse,  being  turned  out  of  oflSce. 
The  officials  who  took  their  places  were  also  good 
men,  but  they  belonged  to  a  different  school  and 
they  were  called  upon  to  do  business  in  a  differ- 
ent way. 

On  all  sides  the  general  principle  of  merging, 
consolidating,  and  organizing  was  getting  under 
headway  and  half  a  dozen  railroads  in  New  Eng- 
land had  already  been  rolled  into  one.  Mean- 
time, of  course,  business  was  expanding  in  every 
direction  and,  as  everybody  seemed  to  agree, 
was  becoming  too  complicated  for  any  form  of 
personal  management  or  control.  Personally  I 
did  not  take  much  stock  in  this  argument,  for  I 
noticed  that  with  increase  of  business  no  attempt 
was  made  to  increase  the  number  of  supervisors 
or  to  retain  in  any  other  way  the  bond  of  per- 
sonal relationship. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  personal  contact  between 
men  and  managers  began  to  give  way  to  a  cold- 
blooded system  of  correspondence  which  at  the 
present  day  has  reached  enormous  and  ridiculous 
proportions.  Illustrations  of  these  facts  are  quite 
interesting. 

I  can  remember  the  time,  for  example,  when 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY  171 

an  employe's  "pass"  was  a  bond  of  sympathy 
between  the  men  and  the  management.  On  re- 
quest any  official  could  hand  an  employe  what  he 
wanted  on  the  spot.  He  did  not  have  to  say  to 
any  man,  Who  are  you  and  what  is  your  record? 
He  knew  his  men  and  he  treated  them  liberally 
to  the  best  of  his  judgment.  But  just  as  soon  as 
the  public  and  the  politicians  got  mixed  up  in 
this  pass  business  the  employe's  side  of  it  was 
ruined,  and  every  human  factor  connected  with 
it  was  scattered  to  the  winds.  To  the  merchant 
the  pass  was  a  form  of  rebate,  to  thousands  upon 
thousands  of  professional  people  in  different  lines 
it  was  a  form  of  recompense  amounting  in  some 
cases  to  a  bribe.  The  railroads  themselves  have 
taken  or  rather  been  given  the  blame  for  this 
state  of  affairs.  The  recipients,  on  the  other 
hand,  seem  to  have  satisfied  public  opinion  with 
Adam's  apology,  "The  woman  tempted  me  and 
I  did  eat." 

To-day  the  employe's  pass  has  lost  all  its  per- 
sonal use  and  significance.  It  is  part  of  the  bond 
in  many  of  the  schedules.  Apart  from  this,  if  the 
employe  desires  a  trip  pass,  he  must  show  in  writ- 
ing that  he  is  legally  entitled  to  it.  Instead  of 
coming  from  the  official  just  above  him,  it  calls  for 
the  signature  of  one  of  the  highest  officials  on  the 
railroad.  And  the  employe's  application  for  this 
pass  before  and  after  he  gets  it  has  a  curious 


172    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

history.  En  route  to  a  storehouse  for  safe-keep- 
ing it  probably  figures  in  a  dozen  separate  reports. 
It  is  copied  into  records,  certified,  approved,  and 
stamped  by  numerous  officials,  clerks,  and  con- 
ductors until  in  course  of  time  it  has  fulfilled 
the  multifarious  requirements  of  the  Interstate 
Commerce  Law. 

The  working  of  what  is  known  as  the  "Sixteen- 
Hour  Law"  furnishes  another  illustration  of  the 
alienation  of  the  employe  from  the  employer 
which  has  followed  in  the  train  of  the  new  system. 

For  example,  time  was  when,  if  I  wished  to  get 
away  from  my  tower  duties  for  an  hour  or  two 
for  some  urgent  personal  reason,  I  could,  with  the 
permission  of  the  superintendent,  call  upon  one 
of  the  other  men  to  help  me  out.  For  twenty- 
five  years  I  watched  this  method  of  handling  the 
business  in  a  reasonable  and  human  manner  and 
never  knew  it  to  be  abused.  The  management 
looked  upon  us  as  men.  To-day,  on  the  other 
hand,  if  I  want  to  get  away  for  a  couple  of  hours 
in  order  to  go  to  a  funeral,  my  superintendent 
will  refer  me  to  the  law  in  the  case  as  promul- 
gated by  the  Interstate  Commerce  Commission: 
No  man  can  exceed  his  time  limit  of  nine  hours 
except  in  cases  of  emergency,  and  according  to 
the  announced  ruling  in  such  matters,  I  cannot 
plead  emergency  for  anything  that  I  can  foresee. 
But  when  a  man  is  dead,  I  can  easily  foresee  the 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY  173 

funeral.  Therefore  the  only  funeral  a  tower- 
man  can  go  to  nowadays  is  his  own.  There 
is  absolutely  no  encouragement  for  loyalty  or 
esprit  de  corps  in  mechanical  situations  of  this 
kind. 

Along  these  lines,  then,  on  the  railroads  and 
elsewhere  the  severing  of  the  human  tie  between 
the  employe  and  the  employer  has  been  growing 
from  year  to  year.  Just  at  present  there  is  every- 
where, in  thinking  circles  at  any  rate,  a  tremen- 
dous awakening  to  these  simple  and  serious  facts. 
Whether  the  mistakes  of  management  in  this 
direction  can  be  rectified  or  not  is  a  question. 
The  vital  mistake  was  in  depriving  the  immediate 
superior  of  an  employe  of  the  authority  and  in- 
dividuality that  belongs  to  his  office. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  useless  to  blame  em- 
ployes for  taking  their  cue  from  the  mechanical 
system  that  pays  them  their  wages.  The  busi- 
ness reformer  along  those  lines  at  the  present  day 
has  both  sides  of  the  situation  to  deal  with.  It  is 
surely  my  duty,  then,  along  with  my  personal 
narrative  to  describe  as  best  I  can  these  social 
and  industrial  movements  with  which  in  a  prac- 
tical way  I  have  been  associated,  and  of  all  these 
problems  this  matter  of  the  weeding-out  of  the 
human  and  personal  elements  in  all  kinds  of  work- 
ing relationships  in  America  is,  as  it  seems  to  me, 
by  long  odds  the  most  important.    Additional 


174    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

illustration  of  the  matter,  then,  will  not  be  out  of 
place. 

The  history  of  affairs  in  this  direction  on  the 
old  Fitchburg  Railroad  is  a  case  in  point.  Here 
we  have  a  practical  demonstration,  extending 
over  fifteen  or  twenty  years,  of  the  tendencies, 
amounting  in  fact  to  efforts,  of  industrial  man- 
agement to  widen  the  gap  and  lessen  the  oppor- 
tunity for  personal  intercourse  between  the  em- 
ployer and  the  workingman. 

n 

When  first  I  appeared  on  the  scene,  the  railroad 
territory  now  known  as  the  Fitchburg  division  of 
the  Boston  and  Maine,  consisted  of  five  or  six 
different  railroads  or  divisions  of  railroads.  At 
Boston,  Fitchburg,  North  Adams,  Troy,  New 
York,  and  one  or  two  other  places,  superinten- 
dents had  their  headquarters.  After  the  consoli- 
dation of  these  railroads  and  branches  into  the 
Fitchburg  system,  these  different  headquarters 
were  abolished.  To-day  a  single  superintendent 
located  in  Boston  covers  the  whole  territory,  and 
probably  this  man  has  in  his  charge  six  times 
as  many  employes  as  were  originally  taken 
care  of  by  five  or  six  separate  managers.  That 
is  to  say,  no  effort  whatever  was  made  to  pre- 
serve a  reasonable  and  necessary  ratio  between 
supervisors   and  men  for  the  purpose  of  main- 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY  175 

taining  some  kind  of  human  relationship  between 
them. 

A  writer  in  a  recent  issue  of  the  "Christian 
Register"  comments  on  this  phase  of  the  labor 
situation  as  follows:  "It  is  a  curious  fact  that  the 
recent  strikes  show  that  the  alienation  of  the  poor 
from  the  rich  has  increased  in  spite  of  the  social 
interest  that  has  been  spent  upon  them."  Look- 
ing into  the  matter  in  the  case  of  the  railroads, 
and  indeed  of  nearly  all  other  large  industries,  the 
alienation  of  the  employe  from  the  manager  is  not 
by  any  means  surprising.  The  absence  of  this 
human  factor  works  out  to  a  logical  conclusion  in 
all  efficiency  and  safety  problems  on  railroads  and 
elsewhere. 

A  brief  contrast  of  a  personal  nature  between 
the  old  and  the  new  methods  of  management  on 
railroads,  will  throw  additional  light  on  this 
subject. 

My  superintendent  for  a  great  many  years  on 
the  Fitchburg  Railroad  was  Mr.  J.  R.  Hartwell. 
He  knew  each  trainman,  engineman,  and  station 
agent  personally.  He  also  knew  each  engine,  its 
condition  and  capacity.  He  rode  over  his  division 
each  day  and  kept  in  personal  touch  with  every 
movement,  both  of  men  and  equipment.  He  was 
always  abreast  and  in  tune  with  every  throb  of  the 
traffic.  As  chief  clerk  under  Mr.  Hartwell,  my 
duties  embraced  business  of  every  description  on 


176    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

the  division.  I  hired  the  trainmen,  kept  the  pay- 
rolls, and  supervised  the  train  runs  and  the  plac- 
ing of  the  equipment.  Correspondence  of  nearly 
every  description  passed  through  my  hands.  I 
knew  instinctively  what  a  superintendent  of  Mr. 
Hart  well's  character  would  do  in  almost  any  situa- 
tion that  arose,  and  in  his  absence  I  used  his  au- 
thority freely.  Under  Mr.  Hartwell's  administra- 
tion both  the  employe  and  the  public  got  a  fair 
and  quick  measure  of  justice.  In  attending  to  the 
duties  of  the  office  I  had  the  assistance  of  a  single 
stenographer.  Apart  from  correspondence  that 
was  unavoidable,  however,  there  was  an  infinity 
of  detail  business  that  was  attended  to  by  word  of 
mouth,  by  telephone,  or  by  telegraph. 

On  the  other  hand,  to-day,  if  the  business  on 
any  given  division  has  doubled,  the  oflBce  force 
has  been  multiplied  by  six  and  the  correspond- 
ence and  reports  by  twenty.  Matters  of  the  most 
trifling  description,  to  which  formerly  the  man  in 
authority  said  "yes"  or  "no,"  as  he  would  in  any 
private  business,  now  have  to  go  the  rounds  of 
the  several  departments  and  give  work  to  a 
dozen  typewriters.  Everybody  is  busy  reporting 
and  investigating,  business  on  the  typewriters  is 
being  rattled  off  practically  by  the  ton,  and  this 
kind  of  railroad  debris,  entailed  to  a  great  ex- 
tent by  the  mechanical  administration  of  affairs 
and  which  is  carefully  tabulated  and  preserved 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY  177 

for  years  to  cover  the  law,  fills  acres  of  floor 
space. 

Altogether  the  modern  railroad  superintendent, 
his  methods,  and  duties  in  the  year  1912  present  a 
curious  study  in  industrial  economics.  I  copy  in 
part  a  strange,  yet,  as  it  seems  to  me,  an  abso- 
lutely truthful  account  of  the  situation  from  a 
recent  issue  of  the  "Railway  Age  Gazette." 
Nearly  everybody  in  authority  on  American  rail- 
roads, according  to  this  writer,  is  engaged  in  in- 
vestigating something  and  advising  somebody. 
Consequently,  for  one  thing,  it  costs  more  to  find 
out  who  broke  a  light  of  glass  than  to  pay  for  the 
new  material  and  put  it  in.  Nobody  is  supposed 
to  answer  a  question  or  a  letter  until  nearly  every 
one  else  has  had  a  chance  to  "investigate  and  ad- 
vise" on  the  matter.  A  division  superintendent 
of  to-day,  we  are  told,  is  anywhere  from  one  day 
to  a  week  behind  with  his  explanations  and  ad- 
vices, and  he  has  absolutely  no  hope  of  catching 
up  —  meantime,  "the  call-boy  is  doing  to-day's 
business.  Each  outbound  train  depends  upon  him 
to  furnish  a  crew." 

The  train  dispatcher,  however,  is  the  real  storm 
centre  of  the  railroad  business.  "He  alone  has  to 
do  with  the  present.  He  always  has  the  informa- 
tion you  want  on  his  tongue's  end,  —  with  the 
same  breath  he  tells  some  brakeman's  wife  on 
the  'phone  when  her  husband's  train  will  be  in. 


178    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

But,"  the  writer  continues,  "when  we  close  the 
door  to  the  dispatcher's  oflSce,  we  shut  out  the 
sound  of  the  telegraph  instruments,  throbbing 
with  the  details  of  to-day's  business,  and  as  we  pass 
the  doors  of  the  various  oflBces  down  the  hall  the 
steady  rattle  of  typewriters  indicates  that  events 
from  twenty-four  hours  to  a  month  or  more  old 
are  being  investigated  and  explained.  They  can- 
not possibly  catch  up  with  the  present.  How 
would  an  official  feel  to  step  to  his  job  some  morn- 
ing and  find  that  he  was  free  to  supervise  what  was 
going  on  on  his  division  that  day,  that  there  was 
no  need  to  explain  increases  in  operating  expenses, 
decreases  in  net  tons,  engine  failures,  car  short- 
ages, delays,  accidents,  washouts,  fires,  labor 
troubles,  or  why  Passenger  Brakeman  Jones  al- 
lowed some  prominent  politician  to  get  off  at  the 
wrong  station  and  thereby  miss  a  scheduled 
speech.  The  sensation  would,  indeed,  be  novel, 
and  it  would  take  time  for  him  to  become  accus- 
tomed to  such  a  change  in  conditions." 

But  while  this  mechanical  way  of  doing  business 
results,  in  my  opinion,  in  confusion  and  inef- 
ficiency in  nearly  every  department  of  affairs,  the 
mental  harm  that  has  been  caused  to  employes, 
managers,  and  society  at  large  is,  at  the  same  time, 
almost  inconceivable. 

Only  by  studying  the  situation  in  this  light  can 
one  understand  and  account  for  the  artificial  rela- 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY  179 

tionship  that  is  becoming  such  a  significant  factor 
to-day  in  American  industrial  circles. 

m 

With  the  men  of  the  old  school  on  the  Fitch- 
burg  Railroad  I  was  on  very  friendly  terms  and 
I  was  naturally  much  annoyed  at  the  unceremo- 
nious treatment  they  received  at  the  hands  of  the 
new  system.  In  the  course  of  a  few  years  practi- 
cally every  man  of  my  acquaintance  who  held  a 
responsible  position  on  the  Fitchburg  Railroad 
and  who  continued  to  exercise  any  form  of  per- 
sonality or  independence,  received  his  walking 
papers.  Some  of  the  old  officials  fitted  them- 
selves easily  into  the  working  of  the  new  system, 
but  many  of  them  did  not.  It  was  not  so  much  the 
loss  of  their  jobs  that  troubled  these  men  as  it  was 
the  knowledge  that  so  far  as  recognition  was  con- 
cerned their  life  work  had  been  wasted.  To  the 
mechanical  man  of  the  present  day  dismissal  is 
for  the  most  part  a  financial  consideration;  his 
salary  is  the  tie  that  binds;  but  at  the  time  I  am 
now  referring  to  it  was  the  abrupt  severing  of 
personal  and  business  relationship  and  banish- 
ment from  spheres  of  honorable  work  and  useful- 
ness that  cut  these  old  railroad  men  to  the  soul. 
I  do  not  think  people  at  the  present  day  have  any 
conception  of  what  this  momentous  change  in 
relationship   between    employer    and  employed 


180    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

really  meant  and  means  to  individuals  and  to  so- 
ciety at  large.  To  illustrate  this  point  I  am  going 
to  picture  the  process  in  actual  operation  as  it 
concerns  one  of  the  old-timers  on  the  Fitchburg 
Railroad  when  he  was  called  on  to  get  down 
and  out  to  make  room  for  the  new  machinery. 

Beginning  far  back  in  the  seventies  and  for 
about  twenty-five  years  following,  one  of  the  best- 
known  men  on  the  railroad  was  a  detective,  who 
was  known  all  over  New  England  as  "Big  Mike." 
In  those  days  even  the  general  superintendent  was 
distinguished  by  a  descriptive  nickname.  These 
titles  were  always  characteristic,  but  their  exact 
meaning  was  not  always  apparent  on  the  surface. 
For  example,  Mike  was  called  "Big"  on  account 
of  his  heart  work  on  the  railroad.  By  night  and 
day  the  human  side  of  his  detective  work  was  to 
him  the  ever-present  and  all-absorbing  considera- 
tion. A  few  days  before  I  left  Boston  to  return  to 
my  levers  in  the  switch  tower,  Mike  came  to  see 
the  superintendent  on  a  final  visit.  The  story  was 
then  going  the  rounds  that  some  time  previously 
Mike  had  caught  a  young  fellow  in  the  act  of  pil- 
fering from  a  freight  car.  For  reasons  of  his  own, 
however,  instead  of  sending  him  to  jail  in  due  pro- 
cess of  law,  Mike,  it  was  said,  had  simply  taken 
his  word  of  honor  in  some  way  and  then  let  the 
boy  go. 

Under  the  new  system,  of  course,  this  was  a 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY  181 

capital  offence.  The  management,  he  was  told, 
would  never  countenance  such  proceedings.  What 
was  the  use  of  machinery,  that  is  to  say,  of  clerks, 
typewriters,  lawyers,  courts  of  justice,  and  pri- 
sons, if  a  simple  detective  were  allowed  to  settle 
the  case  of  a  young  thief  in  this  way.  Such,  at  any 
rate,  were  the  excuses  and  explanations  for  his 
discharge  and  he  had  to  go.  Just  what  a  great 
honest  heart  was  capable  of  doing  in  this  detect- 
ive business  on  railroads,  however,  was  probably 
only  known  in  all  its  significance  to  Mike  himself. 
Even  to  his  friends  and  associates  on  the  railroad 
the  strange  fact  that  he  was  actually  running  his 
department  in  the  life  interest  of  these  embryo 
criminals  was  not  fully  appreciated  until  some 
time  after  his  departure.  In  other  words,  here  and 
there,  in  different  places  in  New  England,  there 
was  actually  a  scattered  school  of  these  young 
fellows,  whom  Mike  at  different  times  had  ar- 
rested and  after  a  personal  investigation  had  be- 
friended in  some  way.  By  hook  or  by  crook  he 
had  kept  them  out  of  jail  and  enabled  them  to  be- 
gin life  anew  with  at  least  one  firm  friend  at  their 
backs.  In  this  way  to  an  extent  that  is  almost  in- 
credible. Big  Mike  became  a  private  probation 
oflBcer  on  his  own  responsibility.  In  the  younger 
set  of  these  unfortunates  he  was  particularly  in- 
terested, for  the  reason  that  five  out  of  six  of  his 
captures  on  railroad  property  were  under  seven- 


182    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

teen  years  of  age.  His  regard  for  these  youngsters 
developed  in  time  into  a  passion  for  helping  them 
out.  In  working  out  their  reformation,  however, 
his  method  was  somewhat  unique.  To  begin  with, 
according  to  reports,  he  always  managed  to  give 
his  students  a  good  sound  beating  as  a  sort  of  pre- 
liminary to  a  mutual  understanding.  One  day, 
for  example,  he  chased  one  of  these  embryo  thieves, 
a  brawny  young  fellow,  into  Walden  Pond.  A 
desperate  fight  in  the  water  ensued.  The  contest 
was  decided  in  the  detective's  favor  and  finally 
he  dragged  his  beaten  antagonist  on  to  dry  land. 
Instead  of  locking  him  up,  however,  he  took  the 
young  culprit  to  his  own  home.  He  kept  him  on 
probation  for  a  few  months  and  then  engaged  him 
as  his  personal  assistant  in  the  detective  business. 
To-day  this  student  holds  high  rank  in  the  pro- 
fession. In  my  hearing  one  day  Mike  explained 
his  attachment  to  the  boy,  somewhat  as  follows : 
"You  see,"  he  said,  "I  never  in  my  life  came  so 
near  getting  licked  myself,  and  drowned  into  the 
bargain,  as  I  did  that  afternoon  in  Walden  Pond. 
I  had  the  greatest  respect  for  that  kid  from  the 
start." 

On  the  afternoon  of  his  departure,  Mike  was 
given  a  sort  of  farewell  reception.  Fifteen  or 
twenty  men  from  different  oiEces  in  the  old  gran- 
ite building  on  Causeway  Street,  Boston,  were 
present.  The  boys  tried  to  make  it  pleasant  for 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY         183 

him,  but  he  refused  to  be  comforted.  The  work 
of  a  lifetime  was  thrown  back  in  his  face  and  he 
could  not  conceal  his  mental  dejection.  His  desk 
or  locker  was  in  one  corner  of  the  room.  Just  be- 
fore he  took  his  departure  he  placed  the  contents 
of  this  locker  on  the  table.  In  all  there  were  about 
fifty  relics  or  mementoes  of  adventure.  To  each 
one  of  us  he  presented  one  of  these  articles  as  a 
token  of  remembrance,  accompanying  each  gift 
with  a  fragment  of  the  story  connected  with  it. 
Throughout  the  proceeding  Mike  acted  like  a 
broken-hearted  man.  With  that  farewell  to  his 
old-time  associates  this  champion  of  the  human 
side  in  the  detective  business  passed  absolutely 
from  the  world  of  affairs.  He  went  into  seclusion 
and  even  his  best  friends  saw  him  no  more.  One 
afternoon,  however,  a  year  or  two  ago,  the  writer 
in  passing  a  public  playground  in  the  South  End 
of  Boston  caught  sight  of  him.  He  was  intently 
watching  his  old-time  favorites,  the  boys,  at  play. 
When  he  became  aware  of  my  approach,  he 
turned  abruptly  and  walked  away,  and  then  it 
dawned  upon  me  that  big-hearted  Mike,  like 
Timon  of  Athens,  in  the  old  story,  had  really 
and  finally  turned  his  back  on  the  world, 

IV 

The  most  interesting  of  all  my  experiences  in 
life  so  far  have  been  concerned  with  the  adven- 


184    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

tures  of  my  pen.  My  setback  in  railroad  life  had 
a  good  deal  to  do  with  my  literary  activity.   I 
soon  gave  up  all   thoughts  of  promotion  in  the 
railroad  service  and  upon  my  return  to  the  signal 
tower,  I  devoted  nearly  all  my  spare  time  to 
the  construction  of  sentences.  The  thinking  man 
wishes  to  share  his  thought  with  other  men,  and 
naturally  the  first  thing  for  him  to  do  in  working 
out  a  programme  of  this  kind  is  to  cultivate  ways 
and  means  of  expression.   That  I  was  entirely 
ignorant  of  the  rules  of  composition  or  of  the 
usual  requirements  of  a  successful  writer  did  not 
bother  me  for  a  minute,  and  as  for  my  knowledge 
of  grammar  I  did  not  give  it  a  thought.  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  I  seemed  to  possess  a  faculty,  an 
indefinable  something  that  was  independent  of 
these  technical  foundations.   I  could  at  least  tell 
a  plain  story  in  a  plain  way.   And  besides,  back- 
ing up  my  craving  for  expression,  there  was  some- 
how and   somewhere  in   the  storehouses  of  my 
mind  an  infinite  array  of  sentences  of  matchless 
form  and  magical  significance  acquired  during 
years  of  thoughtful   reading,  out  of  all   which 
favoring  circumstances  there  came  to  me  in  the 
course  of   time  a  sort  of   intuition  of   rightness 
both  of  form  and  substance.   To  a  greater  extent 
than  I  can  possibly  explain  a  sentence  has  al- 
ways been  to  me  a  matter  of  euphony,  not  only 
in  the  measured  ring  of  the  words,  but  also,  as  it 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY  185 

were,  in  the  sounding  significances  of  the  thought. 
Such  at  any  rate  in  my  own  case  is  the  anatomy 
of  style. 

Nevertheless,  in  making  the  best  of  my  natural 
equipment  a  good  deal  of  hard  work  was  neces- 
sary. To  begin  with  I  simply  went  to  work  to 
practice  the  arts  of  condensation  and  clearness 
of  presentation  for  their  own  sakes.  The  simple 
satisfaction  of  being  able  to  put  into  words  what 
I  saw  with  my  eyes  and  fancied  in  my  mind  was 
sufficient  reward  for  the  exertion  it  entailed.  And 
I  was  assisted  in  my  efforts  at  the  time  by  a  very 
commonplace  incident.  Shortly  after  my  return 
to  the  switch  tower,  I  wrote  a  short  story  on  some 
railroad  subject  and  sent  it  to  a  publisher  in  Bos- 
ton. It  was  returned  without  comment,  I  then 
sent  the  same  article  by  way  of  a  friend  to  another 
publisher,  and  the  verdict  from  him  was  some- 
what as  follows:  "If  the  man  works  in  a  switch 
tower,  in  all  frankness  I  say  let  him  stick  to  his 
job." 

I  took  the  advice  in  good  part  and  immediately 
went  to  work  on  plans  for  improvement.  I  took 
Shakespeare's  play,  "The  Tempest,"  as  a  sort  of 
model  with  which  to  experiment.  I  studied  the 
plot,  the  characters,  and  the  scenes.  When 
thoroughly  familiar  with  these  features  I  pro- 
ceeded to  write  the  story  in  my  own  words,  be- 
ing careful  to  leave  nothing  out,  and  weaving  the 


186    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST  \ 

whole  into  a  straightforward  narrative,  contain- 
ing about  one  thousand  words.  I  wrote  and  re- 
wrote the  story  at  least  one  hundred  times.  In 
this  task  my  ingenuity  in  condensation  and  in 
the  presentation  of  my  material  was  taxed  to  the 
utmost.  The  time  and  labor,  however,  were  well 
spent,  and  then,  just  at  the  time  when  I  was  hesi- 
tating about  my  next  literary  move,  my  attention 
was  called  to  a  short  story  announcement  in  the 
"Black  Cat." 

Ten  thousand  dollars  was  to  be  divided  into 
prizes.  Just  for  the  fun  of  the  thing  I  determined 
to  try  my  hand.  I  was  successful  beyond  my 
dreams.  Within  a  year,  in  prizes  and  otherwise, 
I  earned  about  one  thousand  dollars.  For  the 
time  being  I  put  aside  all  social  and  industrial 
problems  and  abandoned  myself  to  the  spell  of 
this  kind  of  intellectual  enjoyment.  An  introduc- 
tion to  one  of  my  first  stories,  in  which  I  describe 
myself  as  lording  it  over  the  situation  like  the  dis- 
coverer of  a  new  world,  gives  one  a  good  idea 
of  my  mental  exuberance:  "Surely  it  is  a  good 
thing,"  I  wrote,  "to  have  a  mind  stored  with 
treasures  from  all  parts  of  the  world.  Puck  has 
said  it,  —  'What  fools  these  mortals  be.'  Not  all 
fools,  Mr.  Puck;  fools  and  knaves,  and  will  you 
believe  it?  I  am  very  glad  that  such  is  the  dis- 
tressing combination.  For  I  am  one  of  the  knaves, 
you  understand,  gloating  over  the  perplexity  of 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY         187 

my  fellows,  to  the  end  that  I  may  secure  material 
for  moonlight  reveries  and  dutiful  subjects  for  my 
fancy  to  fling  among  the  blazing  logs  in  the  fire- 
place as  I,  their  king  and  conjurer,  put  them 
through  their  paces  under  the  magical  influence 
of  my  pipe  and  my  glass  of  toddy." 

The  enterprise  of  an  imagination  of  this  reck- 
less description  could  not  possibly  confine  itself 
to  this  humdrum  universe.  In  a  story  entitled 
"Squaring  the  Circle,"  I  took  a  bold  plunge  into 
the  hereafter.  I  was  working  as  a  telegraph 
operator  at  the  central  shaft  in  the  Hoosac  Tun- 
nel at  the  time,  and  one  day  with  a  companion 
I  had  the  temerity  to  explore  a  subterranean 
cavern  which  I  discovered  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
office.  After  an  adventurous  trip  and  by  certain 
means,  which  are  fully  described  in  the  story, 
I  found  myself  looking  down  through  a  small 
cranny  into  a  globe,  which  probably  fills  the  cen- 
tre of  our  planet.  Stretching  round  and  down  be- 
neath me  was  a  glorious  arch  or  sky  inclosing  a 
pale  silvery  atmosphere.  My  amazement  can  be 
imagined  when  I  perceived  that  this  vast  space 
was  thronged  with  millions  of  tiny  globes  about 
the  size  of  golf -balls,  which  were  darting  and  cir- 
cling hither  and  thither  with  inconceivable  swift- 
ness. Some  of  them  were  white,  others  again 
were  coal  black.  The  white  globes,  I  noticed, 
were  able  in  some  way,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 


188    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

to  transform  themselves  into  little  squares  and  the 
process  seemed  to  act  as  a  brake  on  their  motive 
power,  enabling  them  to  float  at  will  or  to  join 
themselves  to  other  squares  in  the  form  of  rings 
and  festoons  of  striking  beauty.  The  black 
globes,  on  the  other  hand,  being  unable  to  square 
the  circle,  ceaselessly  wheeled  and  darted  in  a 
sort  of  reckless  pursuit  of  each  other.  As  with 
mingled  feelings  of  pity  and  wonder  I  watched 
the  endless  gyrations  of  these  black  spirit-like 
meteors,  I  said  to  myself,  "There  is  no  rest  for 
the  wicked."  On  the  other  hand,  when  I  turned 
my  attention  to  the  glorious  throng  of  white 
spheres  floating  or  swaying  everywhere  in  restful 
harmony,  surely,  I  thought,  this  must  be  the 
fulfillment  of  the  promise,  "The  peace  that  pass- 
eth  understanding."  I  managed  to  capture  one 
of  the  little  black  spheres  and  take  it  out  with 
me  to  the  oflSce  at  the  central  shaft  for  examina- 
tion; when  I  opened  it,  the  contents,  combining 
with  the  gaseous  atmosphere  in  the  tunnel,  caused 
a  terrible  explosion  and  set  the  office  on  fire. 
For  this  and  other  reasons  of  a  weird  and  creepy 
description,  the  telegraph  office  in  the  central 
shaft  was  immediately  abandoned. 


During  the  years  in  which  my  chief  intellectual 
occupation  was  story-writing  I  was  engaged  in  a 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY         189 

few  side  excursions  which  were  not  only  interest- 
ing in  themselves,  but,  as  it  would  now  appear, 
they  were  just  what  was  needed  to  steer  me  back 
into  a  more  substantial  groove  of  intellectual 
eflFort.  One  day,  I  heard  Mr.  Samuel  Jones,  the 
then  Mayor  of  Toledo,  deliver  an  address  at  one 
of  the  Mills  meetings  in  the  Parker  Memorial 
Building  in  Boston.  He  made  a  simple  yet  in- 
spiring plea  for  more  brotherhood  in  our  social 
and  industrial  dealings  with  each  other.  I  then 
and  there  made  up  my  mind  to  pay  him  a  visit 
in  order  to  study  his  ideas  in  practical  operation. 
The  opportunity  to  do  so  came  in  the  year  1900. 
I  made  the  trip  to  Toledo  and  spent  nearly  a 
week,  several  hours  a  day,  in  the  mayor's  company. 
I  visited  his  office,  his  house,  his  factory,  and  in- 
cidentally I  filled  my  note-book  with  observations 
and  records  of  sight-seeing.  I  said  to  myself, 
"Here  is  a  man  who  has  the  time,  the  opportun- 
ity, and  the  means  to  work  out  the  problem  of 
social  and  industrial  relationship  to  a  finish ;  what 
is  his  plan  and  what  are  the  results?"  "To  be- 
gin with,"  he  said  to  me,  "I  consider  the  whole 
question  of  better  social  and  industrial  condi- 
tions as  mainly  a  moral  one.  I  have  given  up  hop- 
ing for  or  believing  in  regeneration  by  party  or 
collective  methods  of  any  kind.  I  am  not  one  of 
those  who  think  you  can  vote  righteousness  or 
brotherly   conduct   into   anybody   or    into   any 


190    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

nation.  All  machine  methods  of  uplift,  whether  in 
industry  or  politics,  are  futile.  You  might  just 
as  well  go  on  to  the  street  and  take  a  dozen  men 
out  of  a  crowd,  call  them  musicians,  and  bid  them 
play  as  to  try  to  vote  a  social  conscience  into  any 
community."  There  was  no  concealing  the  fact 
that  the  Mayor  of  Toledo  was  an  enthusiast.  He 
had  an  absorbing  sympathy  for  struggling  mis- 
directed humanity,  and  his  appeal  was  for 
brotherhood;  cooperation  not  competition  be- 
tween the  units  of  society.  His  application  of 
these  ideas  to  the  management  of  his  own  factory 
makes  very  interesting  reading.  "My  brother 
Dan,"  he  said  to  me,  "has  general  charge  of  the 
place.  We  began  work  here  in  a  small  way  in 
1894  employing  six  men;  now  we  have  over  one 
hundred.  We  manufacture  oil-well  appliances 
and  particularly  a  sucker  rod  which  is  an  inven- 
tion of  my  own.  Yes  —  of  course  it  is  patented. 
Do  I  preach  against  patents  and  yet  use  one?  Yes, 
I  am  sorry  to  say  Society  compels  me  to.  I  sup- 
pose my  excuse  is  that  I  can  do  more  good  with 
it  than  without.  A  man  meets  this  dilemma  in  a 
hundred  forms  and  must  figure  it  out  with  his 
own  conscience.  In  running  our  shop,  we  set  out 
upon  a  basis  of  absolute  equality.  Equality  in 
everything  but  wages,  and  I  should  n't  be  sur- 
prised if  we  include  even  that  before  long;  as  it 
is  to-day  we  pay  a  minimum  rate  of  two  dollars. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY  191 

We  pay  no  less  to  anybody.  At  the  same  time 
we  have  considerable  work  that  could  be  done 
just  as  well  by  boys  for  less  than  half  the  money, 
but  we  don't  want  child  labor  at  any  price.  Again, 
we  have  no  bosses  nor  foreman  in  the  shops. 
No  ironclad  regulations  nor  orders  deface  the 
walls.  Of  course  certain  things  creep  in  that  have 
to  be  stopped;  for  instance,  newspaper  reading 
during  working-hours.  Well,  there  is  a  type- 
written letter  on  a  pillar  yonder  that  states  the 
case  in  a  fair  way  and  it  is  quite  sufficient.  It 
reads  like  this,  '  According  to  our  ideas  of  justice 
and  equality,  what  is  fair  for  one  is  fair  for  all. 
If  one  reads  a  newspaper  during  working-hours, 
all  have  the  same  right;  obviously  this  would  ruin 
our  common  interest;  therefore  let  us  all  abstain 
from  newspaper  reading  during  our  eight  hours 
of  work.' " 

In  conclusion.  Mayor  Jones  summarized  his 
Golden  Rule  settlement  as  follows,  "A  shop  with 
one  hundred  workers,  the  day's  work  eight  hours, 
a  minimum  daily  wage  of  two  dollars,  no  bossing 
or  disagreeable  features,  and  a  mutual  insurance 
plan  to  which  we  all  belong.  For  those  who  re- 
main with  us  six  months  a  week's  vacation  with 
full  pay,  and  a  dividend  at  Christmas.  So  far  this 
has  amounted  to  five  per  cent  on  the  year's  salary. 
With  the  money,  each  man  receives  a  letter  of 
Christmas  greeting  and  sympathy  from  the  firm. 


192    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

A  more  inspiring  and  satisfactory  state  of  af- 
fairs cannot  well  be  imagined  than  this  Golden 
Rule  settlement,  and  it  lasted  just  as  long  as 
Mayor  Jones  lived  to  direct  its  activities  and  in- 
spire it  with  his  presence.  Shortly  after  his  death, 
however,  the  shop  and  the  system  connected 
with  it  fell  to  pieces,  for  the  simple  reason  that 
the  plan,  without  the  head  and  the  authority  to 
superintend  it,  was  at  least  one  hundred  years 
ahead  of  its  time.  A  few  years  later,  when  I  again 
visited  Toledo,  I  found  the  whole  splendid  sys- 
tem had  dissolved  into  its  original  competitive 
parts  simply  for  lack  of  authority  and  leader- 
ship. 

This  visit  to  Toledo  broke  the  spell  of  short-story 
writing,'although  it  was  not  until  a  year  or  two  later 
that  I  finally  withdrew  from  the  field.  Meanwhile  I 
spent  a  great  deal  of  time  studying  the  social  and 
labor  situation  and  in  visiting  factories  and  busi- 
ness establishments  to  get  in  touch  with  actual 
conditions.  And  in  connection  with  these  studies 
I  then  began  to  WTite  a  little  for  the  press.  For 
instance,  in  1902  I  received  an  invitation  from 
the  manager  of  the  "Boston  Journal"  to  repre- 
sent that  paper  in  the  Pennsylvania  coal  regions 
during  the  great  strike.  My  instructions  were  to 
report  the  situation  just  as  I  found  it,  regardless 
of  personal  opinion  or  newspaper  policies.  In 
this  way  I  had  the  opportunity  to  get  pretty  close 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IN  INDUSTRY  193 

to  the  inner  workings  of  a  great  industrial  con- 
flict. As  in  the  railroad  business  and  in  the  man- 
agement of  a  Golden  Rule  factory,  so  in  this  coal 
region,  among  thousands  of  striking  miners,  I 
found  every  situation  dependent  on  the  conserva- 
tion of  authority  and  the  individuality  of  the 
leaders.  I  can  never  forget  an  interview  I  had 
with  one  of  these  mine  leaders.  He  was  quite  a 
remarkable  example  of  the  second  generation  of 
foreigners.  He  could  speak  five  languages  flu- 
ently, three  of  them  he  could  read  and  write. 
When  I  requested  him  to  tell  me  something 
about  the  personality  and  influence  of  the  labor 
leaders  during  the  strike,  his  answer,  word  for 
word,  was  as  follows:  "Well,  sir,  I'll  tell  you  just 
what  I  think  about  it.  To  begin  with,  I  will  say 
the  operators  want  the  foreigners  and  can't  get 
along  without  them.  The  more  ignorant  they  are, 
generally  speaking,  the  cheaper  the  labor  is.  An 
American  boy  will  seldom  go  into  the  mine  after 
leaving  school.  Now,  then,  granted  that  you  will 
always  have  these  ignorant  people  in  these  mines, 
the  question  arises,  How  are  you  going  to  keep 
their  passion  in  check  and  to  improve  their  gen- 
eral condition,  which  I  suppose  you  will  allow  to 
be  praiseworthy  objects?  Can  the  authorities  do 
this.f^  Can  their  oflScers  and  agents  speak  the  lan- 
guages of  these  people  .^^  Can  they  secure  their 
confidences^    Not  at  all.   Well,  then,  I  can.   Now, 


194    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

then,  all  I  ask  you  to  do  is  to  call  upon  the  chief 
of  police  or  the  chief  magistrate  in  any  township 
in  these  coal  regions,  and  if  these  people  don't 
inform  you  that  these  leaders  are,  generally  speak- 
ing, honest  men  and  a  power  of  good  in  the  com- 
munity, they  have  certainly  changed  their  minds 
since  you  have  come  into  these  parts."  It  was 
after  considerable  experience  of  this  kind  in 
mills,  mines,  and  factories  that  I  finally  settled 
down  to  a  systematic  study  of  the  accident  situa- 
tion on  the  railroads. 


VII 

A  STUDY  OF  THREE  PRESIDENTS 

When  a  man  becomes  simply  the  henchman  of 
a  political  party,  a  labor  union,  or  a  corporation, 
his  opinions,  as  a  rule,  have  a  biased  foundation. 
The  necessity  for  a  broader  conception  of  in- 
dividual responsibility  and  exertion  in  all  the 
walks  of  life  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  philosophy 
contained  in  this  autobiography.  With  this  philo- 
sophy in  the  foreground  of  my  mental  equip- 
ment, I  worked  from  the  year  1903  until  1908  in 
the  switch  tower  at  West  Cambridge,  studying 
the  service  on  American  railroads  from  every 
conceivable  point  of  view.  The  deeper  I  looked 
into  the  matter  of  preventable  accidents,  the 
more  I  became  convinced  of  the  personal  nature 
of  the  difficulties  with  which  the  problem  was 
surrounded.  Here  is  a  situation,  I  said  to  myself, 
that  I  can  at  least  clarify  and  explain.  On  this 
one  word  accident  I  can  now  concentrate  an  in- 
dividuality that  for  twenty-five  years  has  been 
trying  to  find  an  outlet. 

t  Roughly  speaking  my  breaking-in,  physically, 
technically,  and  intellectually,  had  consumed  the 
best   part   of   twenty-five   years.  During   these 


196    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

years,  so  far  as  material  or  financial  betterment 
was  concerned,  I  had  been  actually  going  back- 
ward. In  South  America  when  I  was  seventeen 
years  of  age,  I  received  twice  as  much  salary  as 
I  have  ever  received  in  the  United  States.  I  mar- 
ried when  my  pay  was  thirteen  dollars  a  week, 
and  I  am  sorry  that  I  am  obliged  to  crowd  out 
this  inner  circle  of  my  life-story  with  the  simple 
statement  that  I  look  upon  my  married  life  as  an 
ample  and  happy  reward  for  all  the  disappoint- 
ments and  diflSculties  contained  in  the  rest  of  my 
experience. 

Just  at  present,  then,  I  am  concerned  with  life 
in  the  open.  Before  I  managed  to  get  a  public 
hearing  on  the  subject  of  railroad  accidents, 
I  spent  two  or  three  years  in  fruitless  efforts. 
I  sent  a  number  of  appeals  to  railroad  managers 
in  different  parts  of  the  country.  I  proposed  safety 
leagues,  badges,  buttons,  safety  officials  on  every 
railroad,  —  anything  to  excite  individual  inter- 
est in  the  matter.  Most  of  these  ideas  are  now  in 
practical  and  successful  operation  on  many  rail- 
roads. But  from  only  one  of  the  managers  in 
that  early  period  did  I  receive  anything  more 
definite  than  an  acknowledgment  of  my  com- 
munications. From  Mr.  Kruttschnitt,  vice-presid- 
ent of  the  Southern  Pacific,  I  received  by  letter 
the  first  actual  recognition  and  encouragement. 
This,  I  think,  was  early  in  1906.  I  followed  this 


A  STUDY  OF  THREE   PRESIDENTS        197 

up  by  addressing  the  legal  department  of  the  Bos- 
ton and  Maine  Railroad,  and  the  reply  I  re- 
ceived was  as  follows :  — 

I  have  your  letter  of  March  16th.  I  also  re- 
ceived yours  of  the  16th  ult.,  enclosing  "Observa- 
tions of  a  Signalman,"  etc.  I  trust  you  will  par- 
don me  for  not  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  your 
communication.  I  have  been  away  most  of  the 
time  for  the  last  month  and  have  only  just  had  an 
opportunity  to  read  your  remarks.  I  think  it 
splendid,  and  I  believe  that  you  have  hit  upon 
some  of  the  diflSculties  of  our  system.  I  am 
sending  your  paper  to  President  Tuttle. 
Yours  very  truly, 
(Signed)  Edgar  J.  Rich, 

General  Solicitor. 

This  letter  led,  by  a  simple  evolution  of  events, 
to  the  publication,  in  the  year  1908,  of  "The 
Confessions  of  a  Railroad  Signalman." 

Mr.  Rich,  of  course,  had  no  knowledge  what- 
ever of  my  writings  until  they  appeared  in  the 
"Atlantic  Monthly,"  but  it  was  his  intense  loy- 
alty to  the  railroad,  together  with  his  compre- 
hensive conception  of  the  true  interests  of  the 
public,  the  employe,  and  the  employer,  that 
strengthened  my  own  position  in  the  matter  and 
renewed  my  devotion  to  the  work  in  hand. 


198    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

It  was  in  the  month  of  June,  1907,  that  I  fin- 
ally took  the  bull  by  the  horns.  In  the  June  num- 
ber of  the  "Atlantic  Monthly"  an  article  was 
published  entitled,  "The  Personal  Factor  in  the 
Labor  Problem."  I  knew  just  as  well  as  the  writer 
of  this  article  all  about  President  Tuttle's  kindly 
feeling  towards  railroad  men.  To  Mr.  Tuttle  be- 
longed all  the  credit  for  the  harmonious  relations 
that  obtained  at  the  time  on  the  Boston  and 
Maine  Railroad  between  management  and  men. 
But  unfortunately  harmony  was  not  the  only 
consideration,  either  then  or  now,  in  the  effi- 
ciency problems  on  railroads,  although  politicians 
and  the  leaders  of  labor  unions  may  be  of  that 
opinion. 

At  any  rate,  after  carefully  reading  the  article 
in  question,  I  went  right  into  Boston  and  re- 
quested an  interview  with  the  editor  of  the  "At- 
lantic Monthly."  I  said  to  him,  "Do  you  know 
what  this  so-called  harmony  on  the  railroad  really 
means.?  Would  you  like  to  follow  its  trail  and 
note  by  the  way  its  actual  significance  in  terms  of 
service, — the  relationship,  for  instance,  between 
this  kind  of  harmony  and  the  railroad  accident.?" 
The  nature  of  the  editor's  answer  can  be  gathered 
from  the  articles  that  followed  in  the  pages  of  the 
"Atlantic." 

Leaving  these  articles,  then,  to  tell  their  own 
story  of  my  subsequent  work  and  activities,  I  wish 


A  STUDY  OF  THREE  PRESIDENTS        199 

now  to  devote  a  little  space  to  a  study  of  three 
well-known  and  justly  celebrated  men,  who 
became  interested  in  my  articles  on  the  rail- 
road business  as  they  appeared  from  month  to 
month  in  the  pages  of  the  "Atlantic  Monthly." 

Not  only  are  my  interviews  with  these  men 
never-to-be-forgotten  events  in  my  own  history, 
but  the  studies  are,  I  think,  of  peculiar  and  timely 
interest  at  the  present  day.  In  November,  1908, 
my  study  of  "Three  Presidents"  was  published 
in  the  "Boston  Herald,"  substantially  as  fol- 
lows :  — 

Some  time  ago  I  was  accorded  an  interview 
with  one  of  the  most  intellectual  and  cleverest 
railroad  men  in  the  United  States.  President 
Mellen,  of  the  New  Haven  Road,  is  certainly  a 
remarkably  well-equipped  man.  My  impressions 
of  his  strength,  his  versatility,  his  wide  and 
clear  comprehension  of  the  smallest  details  of  rail- 
road life,  as  well  as  of  its  broadest  issues,  are  un- 
mistakably vivid  and  favorable.  One  of  the  most 
remarkable  features  connected  with  the  President 
of  the  New  Haven  system  seemed  to  me  to  be 
his  physical  make-up,  his  cast  of  countenance, 
and  the  structure  or  contour  of  his  head.  My 
first  thought  when  I  met  him  was  that  I  had  seen 
a  very  similar  head  before,  somewhere  in  some 
art  gallery,  I  was  not  mistaken,  for  later  I  came 
across  the  facsimile,  which  includes  a  remarkable 


200    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

facial  resemblance,  in  case  number  two  in  the 
room  devoted  to  Egyptian  antiquities  in  the  Bos- 
ton Museum  of  Fine  Arts.  The  head  is  typical 
of  a  splendid  intellectual  era.  At  any  rate,  Mr. 
Mellen  has  a  strangely  elongated  skull,  with 
other  Egyptian  characteristics.  His  face  is  ex- 
ceedingly pale,  and  the  features,  while  denoting 
great  firmness  and  strength  of  character,  are 
seemingly  passionless  and  absolutely  impenetra- 
ble. 

When  I  entered  the  room,  which  was  of  enor- 
mous proportions,  Mr.  Mellen  appeared  to  be  so 
solitary,  so  motionless,  so  statuesque,  I  was  posi- 
tively startled  when  he  turned  his  head.  I  write 
down  these  random  impressions,  just  as  they 
occur  to  me,  for  the  reason  that  in  every  conceiv- 
able way  President  Mellen  presents  to  us  a  re- 
markable contrast  to  President  Roosevelt.  Both 
are  big  typical  Americans.  Both  are  kings  in  their 
own  domains,  but  they  are  not  to  be  judged  or 
considered  from  the  same  point  of  view.  What 
they  actually  stand  for,  think  about,  and  talk 
about  represents  schools  that  have  little  in  com- 
mon, and  the  distinction  between  them  is  as  wide 
as  the  continent,  although  their  ideals  are  equally 
honorable  and  praiseworthy. 

In  Mr.  Mellen's  conversation  one  listens  to  a 
discourse  on  commercial  America.  Standing  on 
a  pedestal  he  surveys  American  ideas,  motives. 


A  STUDY  OF  THREE  PRESIDENTS        201 

and  the  swaying  to  and  fro  of  public  opinion  as 
an  astronomer  or  soothsayer  might  contemplate 
the  system  of  the  stars.  Both  the  stars  and  the 
politicians  are  subject  to  the  laws  of  gravitation 
which  Mr.  Mellen  has  laboriously  studied  and 
thoroughly  understands.  The  impressionist  con- 
cludes from  his  conversation  that  if  we  could  only 
be  persuaded  to  obey  certain  ordinary  and  com- 
mon-sense laws,  all  would  be  well  with  us.  But, 
unfortunately,  once  in  a  while,  from  unknown 
causes,  unexpected  movements  and  catastrophes 
take  place  among  the  stars,  and  in  like  incompre- 
hensible manner,  once  in  a  while  emotional  out- 
bursts and  romantic  stupidities  of  public  senti- 
ment play  havoc  with  the  commercial  prospects 
of  the  American  nation.  The  American  Don 
Quixote,  tilting  at  sentimental  windmills,  has 
over  and  over  again  dried  up  the  money  market 
and  snatched  the  bread  and  butter  from  the 
mouths  of  thousand  upon  thousands  of  honest 
working-people. 

There  is  dry  positive  common  sense  in  this 
argument,  or  rather,  in  this  impression  of  mine. 
If  the  history  of  progress  has  any  lesson  at  all  for 
the  social  student,  it  teaches  him  that  the  prin- 
ciples which,  to  a  great  extent,  are  represented 
to-day  by  Mr.  Mellen's  commercial  policies  are 
fundamentally  right.  But  we  must  not  forget 
that  these  policies  are  commercial,  not  romantic 


202    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

or  emotional.  The  merging  of  conflicting  inter- 
ests into  harmonious  systems  under  sane  and 
watchful  supervision  means  intelligent  progress. 
In  the  smallest  economies  of  life,  as  well  as  in  its 
highest  spiritual  activities,  we  are  all  ardent  be- 
lievers in  and  promoters  of  the  principle  of  con- 
solidation and  the  merger.  In  the  onward  march 
of  civilization  we  cannot  escape  from  it,  either 
on  railroads  or  in  the  adjusting  of  affairs  that 
regulate  the  destinies  of  nations,  whose  conflict- 
ing interests  in  the  past  have  supplied  us  with  in- 
centive to  cheat  and  rob  each  other  and  to  wage 
brutal  war  in  the  interests  of  conflicting  religions 
and  of  different  ideas  of  liberty. 

Of  course  this  is  only  an  individual  impression 
of  the  ethics  of  commercialism,  represented  by 
the  merger  principle.  In  a  general  way  the  im- 
pressionist is  justified  in  associating  Mr.  Mellen 
with  progress  along  these  commercial  and  com- 
mon-sense lines.  x\t  the  same  time,  behind  Mr. 
Mellen's  calm  and  sphinx-like  exterior  there  may 
be  concealed  whole  worlds  of  emotional  and  ro- 
mantic philosophy,  but  the  impressionist  never 
catches  a  glimpse  of  it. 

In  the  same  way  President  Roosevelt  stands  at 
the  head  of  his  own  but  a  very  different  school. 
There  is  not  a  trace  of  the  high-poised  astrono- 
mer or  astute  calculator  of  commercial  probabili- 
ties in  his  composition.    Looking  at   President 


A  STUDY  OF  THREE  PRESIDENTS        203 

Mellen  in  repose  you  wonder  if  he  can  speak  at 
all,  but  the  face  of  President  Roosevelt  in  re- 
pose is  inconceivable.  His  face  fairly  ripples  wdth 
ideas.  The  impression  one  actually  receives  from 
it  is  kaleidoscopic.  The  face  is  kin  to  the  whole 
world;  for  President  Roosevelt  is  an  immense 
worshiper  and  his  idols  are  the  emotional,  the 
romantic,  and  the  spiritual  ideals  of  the  Ameri- 
can people.  Along  these  lines  he  is  the  social  and 
political  magician  of  the  twentieth  century.  He 
touches  the  ground  with  his  wand  and  up  springs 
a  burning  question.  In  furnishing  these  period- 
ical surprises  to  the  nation  he  reminds  one  of 
Prospero  on  the  Enchanted  Island.  Every  once 
in  a  while  he  says  to  himself,  as  Prospero  did  to 
the  lovers,  "I  will  now  bestow  upon  the  people 
some  vanity  of  mine  art;  it  is  my  promise  and 
they  expect  it  from  me." 

But  President  Roosevelt  is  practical  as  well  as 
emotional.  He  is  the  preserver  of  the  woods,  the 
fields,  and  the  rivers  from  the  commercial  de- 
stroyer. He  is  the  patron  of  sports  and  the  De- 
fender of  the  Faith.  He  is  at  once  the  God  of  War 
and  the  Angel  of  Peace.  He  is  the  guardian  of 
home  life,  the  reflector  of  the  best  instincts  and 
emotions  of  the  American  people,  and  he  holds 
their  votes  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand. 

However,  what  I  have  written  is  merely  a  sort 
of   historical   impression   derived   from   reading 


204    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

and  conversation.  Let  us  now  come  a  little  closer 
and  take  a  few  snapshots  of  the  Chief  Executive 
of  the  nation  at  close  range  in  his  own  office. 

On  February  26,  1908,  at  ten  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  I  entered  the  business  end  of  the  White 
House,  and  after  making  myself  known,  I  was 
escorted  to  a  small  anteroom  where  I  divested 
myself  of  my  derby  and  overcoat.  Ten  minutes 
later  I  was  ushered  into  another  room  of  more  im- 
posing proportions.  A  huge  business-like  table, 
surrounded  by  a  number  of  equally  serviceable 
chairs,  occupies  the  entire  length  of  the  room. 
Lincoln's  address  at  Gettysburg,  a  simple  orna- 
ment or  two,  a  generous  open  fireplace,  and  a 
small  book-stand  with  the  word  "Cabinet," 
stamped  on  the  volumes  are  the  principal  features 
of  what  I  took  to  be  the  Cabinet  Room. 

Before  long  a  number  of  people  began  to  file  in 
and  to  form  a  circle  round  the  table  until  the  room 
was  comfortably  filled.  At  this  point  my  mental 
note-taking  begins  in  earnest.  I  was  informed 
there  were  several  delegations  present,  represent- 
ing educational  societies  from  various  States. 
The  ladies  were  all  handsomely  gowned.  They 
appeared  to  be  intensely  interested  in  the  pro- 
ceedings. The  men  were  equally  well-groomed, 
but  not  quite  so  fidgety  and  anxious  as  the  fair 
sex.  Nearly  everybody  displayed  a  badge  or  but- 
ton of   some   kind.   Here   and   there,   however. 


A  STUDY  OF  THREE  PRESIDENTS        205 

among  the  groups  I  noticed  a  few  undeeorated 
and  unimportant  looking  gentlemen.  I  was  told 
they  were  Representatives  and  Congressmen  con- 
nected with  the  delegations,  and  there  were  also 
two  or  three  governors  of  states  in  the  company. 

I  suppose  there  is  little  enchantment  in  the 
White  House  for  people  who  are  already  distin- 
guished. At  any  rate,  these  "already  great"  peo- 
ple appeared  to  be  perfectly  at  home  and  to  the 
"manor"  born.  One  of  them  was  perched  on  the 
edge  of  the  table  and  persisted  in  swinging  his  feet 
to  and  fro  in  an  indifferent  school-boy  fashion; 
another  with  his  coat-collar  turned  up  and  folded 
arms,  standing  a  trifle  to  one  side,  reminded  me 
forcibly  of  the  picture  of  Napoleon  on  the  quarter 
deck. 

While  I  was  in  the  midst  of  this  interesting 
study,  the  folding  doors  directly  in  front  of  me 
were  drawn  aside,  and  I  got  my  first  glimpse  of 
President  Roosevelt.  He  sat  at  his  desk  dictat- 
ing to  a  stenographer.  A.  large  window  in  the 
rear  of  the  desk  enabled  me  to  get  a  very  good 
outline  of  his  features.  The  head  is  remarkably 
square  in  appearance,  so  are  the  shoulders,  and  at 
the  same  time  I  noticed  a  decided  and  quite  un- 
common jutting  out  or  pouting  of  the  lips  as  the 
words  are  dictated.  Pausing  for  a  second  to 
think,  the  President's  left  eyebrow  is  lowered  a 
trifle,  the  lips  protrude,  but  as  quickly  part  again. 


206    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN   INDIVIDUALIST 

and  then  the  squarely  set  jaw  and  the  much-to- 
be-admired  and  world-famous  rows  of  squarely 
set  teeth  are  in  evidence.  You  cannot  say  the 
President's  clothing  is  extremely  neat  or  won- 
derfully well  fitting;  the  impression  is  rather  that 
of  a  sensible  work-a-day  outfit,  without  a  single 
peculiarity. 

The  President's  voice  is  deepset  and  musical. 
Emphasis  and  sincerity  are  its  noticeable  char- 
acteristics. "How  do  you  do.^^"  is  the  simplest 
of  sentences,  yet  the  President  gives  to  it  a  differ- 
ent modulation,  a  different  accent  and  emphasis, 
almost  every  time  he  makes  use  of  it.  He  pos- 
sesses more  variations  of  "I  am  glad  to  see  you," 
than  railroad  brakemen  make  use  of  in  calling  the 
stations.  "I  am  glad  to  see  you."  "Very  glad, 
indeed,  to  meet  you  in  particular,  M^r.  So  and  So." 
He  rings  all  the  changes  in  these  little  courtesies 
of  life  just  the  same  as  he  does  in  all  his  policies 
and  opinions  in  national  affairs. 

But  you  almost  forget  his  remarkable  tact  and 
kindliness  of  greeting  when  you  watch  the  amaz- 
ing rapidity  with  which  he  circles  the  table  and 
disposes,  in  the  strongest  and  happiest  fashion, 
of  group  after  group  of  his  visitors.  Of  course, 
every  one  of  these  visitors  has  some  little  hobby, 
some  little  pent-up  speech,  some  neatly  prepared 
and  beautifully  illuminated  document  with  which 
each  one  in  particular  intends  to  arrest  the  Pres- 


A  STUDY  OF  THREE  PRESIDENTS        207 

ident,  and  actually  compel  his  attention  for  a  sec- 
ond or  two.  But  nearly  all  of  them  were  woefully, 
or  perhaps  I  should  saj',  happily  mistaken.  For 
he  halted  at  each  group  just  long  enough  to  get  a 
hint  of  its  particular  hobby,  or  the  heart  of  its 
errand,  and  then,  in  one  or  two  ringing  sentences 
of  congratulation  and  encouragement,  he  seemed 
to  touch  them  all  personally  and  sympathetically 
in  some  way.  He  was  bubbling  over  with  enthu- 
siasm on  the  very  topic  that  appeals  to  the  heart 
of  each  group.  In  the  best  sense  he  seemed  to  be 
all  worked  up,  his  face  was  flushed,  the  veins 
stood  out,  every  word  rang  as  sharp  and  clear  as 
the  blows  of  a  hammer  on  an  anvil,  and  every 
sentence  was  made  into  an  opportunity  to  shake 
hands  with  about  six  people.  But  enthusiasm  is 
always  in  a  hurry,  and  everybody  in  the  room 
seemed  to  have  caught  the  cue  from  the  Pres- 
ident. The  ladies,  in  particular,  entered  into  the 
spirit  of  the  business;  they  seemed  to  understand 
and  feel  the  tremendous  task  the  President  had 
before  him,  with  the  anteroom  crowded  and  more 
coming,  until  positively  the  people  seemed  to 
hurry  him  along;  they  forgot  themselves  and 
their  errands,  and  wished  him  Godspeed  as  if  his 
mission  was  something  like  Paul  Revere's  on  the 
road  to  Concord. 

In  circling  the  table  and  the  groups  of  visitors 
the  first  time,  the  most  fortunate  individual,  as 


208    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

well  as  the  happiest,  was  a  mere  boy.  The  young 
fellow  was  introduced  to  the  President  by  the 
governor  of  his  state.  They  had  traveled  a  long 
distance  to  show  the  President  a  little  mechani- 
cal invention  of  some  kind.  I  am  sorry  I  was  un- 
able to  ascertain  just  what  it  was.  The  governor 
explained  it  as  best  he  could,  while  the  boy  looked 
on,  nervously  playing  with  his  cap  the  while. 
At  first  the  President  turned  it  over  and  over 
again  and  examined  it,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  rather 
listlessly.  He  had  no  time  for  mechanical  conun- 
drums or  puzzles.  But  suddenly,  something 
about  it  arrested  his  attention,  and  he  made  a 
break  through  the  crowd  for  the  nearest  window. 
Holding  it  up  to  the  light,  he  gave  way  to  several 
exclamations  of  astonishment  and  delight.  The 
boy  had  followed  him  to  the  window  —  dropping 
his  cap  on  the  way.  The  President  behaved  like 
a  child  with  a  new  toy.  Then  he  proceeded  to  ex- 
plain it  to  the  governor  as  explicitly  and  con- 
fidentially as  if  he  had  made  it  himself.  Finally 
he  turned  round  to  the  inventor  and  I  thought 
he  would  surely  dislocate  the  boy's  wrist  with 
hand-shaking. 

But  it  must  not  be  imagined  that  the  Pres- 
ident's voyage  round  the  table  was  all  plain  sail- 
ing. At  one  point  he  was  fairly  buttonholed  by  a 
lady  and  two  gentlemen.  I  watched  them  closely, 
because  I  noticed  they  were  all  talking  to  him 


A   STUDY    OF    THREE    PRESIDENTS      209 

at  once,  while  he,  on  his  part,  in  an  attitude  of 
amused  astonishment,  turned  his  head  quickly 
to  the  right  and  to  the  left  and  then  back  again, 
in  an  effort  to  catch  the  drift  of  the  medley. 
Watching  the  play,  I  said  to  myself,  "Here  at 
last  is  the  real  thing,  Mr.  President,  —  from 
Chicago,  probably;  I  wonder  how  you  will  get 
round  or  over  these  noisy  obstacles."  My  sus- 
pense lasted  but  a  second  or  two,  for  suddenly  the 
President,  with  a  smile  and  a  wave  of  his  hand, 
motioned  them  to  follow  him  into  his  private 
office.  To  the  right  of  his  desk  was  a  lounge, 
very  low-seated,  very  soft,  and  very  deep,  and 
just  wide  enough  to  accommodate  three  ordinary 
people  on  a  fair  squeeze.  Simply  in  no  time  the 
three  talkatives  found  themselves  snugly  en- 
tombed on  this  lounge  with  the  lady  in  the  mid- 
dle and  the  President  on  one  of  the  business-like 
office  chairs,  planted  squarely  in  front  of  them. 
It  looked  like  an  all  morning  session.  In  reality 
it  lasted  about  three  minutes.  For  the  occupants 
of  the  lounge  to  speak  above  a  whisper  under 
such  conditions  was  out  of  the  question.  The 
gentleman  on  the  left  nevertheless  started  in 
with  a  rush,  but  his  enthusiasm  entailed  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  bobbing  up  and  down,  which  per- 
formance was  faithfully  and  ludicrously  imitated 
by  his  companions.  They  could  n't  help  them- 
selves. You  could  actually  watch  the  arguments 


210    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

dying  away  on  the  man's  lips,  and  with  it,  of 
course,  the  bobbing  up  and  down.  It  was  plainly 
impossible  to  carry  on  any  kind  of  conversation 
under  such  peculiar  and  uncomfortable  condi- 
tions. The  first  pause  was  the  President's  cue 
and  with  pencil  in  hand  he  actually  tapped  out  a 
couple  of  sentences  on  the  breast  of  one  of  the  vic- 
tims, at  which  there  was  a  burst  of  merriment, 
and  a  second  later  the  President  was  back  among 
the  crowd.  Of  course  the  scene  from  beginning 
to  end  was  merely  the  impression  of  a  spectator, 
of  which  the  actors  in  the  ajffair  were  utterly 
unconscious. 

My  own  turn  came  at  last,  and  upon  making 
myself  known,  the  President  gave  me  a  hearty 
slap  on  the  shoulder  and  exclaimed,  "I  am  very 
glad  to  meet  you;  go  right  in  there  and  sit  down. 
I  want  to  have  a  real  talk  with  you." 

So  I  took  a  seat  in  his  office,  close  to  his  desk, 
while  he  proceeded  to  circle  the  table  with  its 
new  group  of  visitors,  for  the  second  time.  I  sat 
there  for  half  an  hour  or  more,  but  I  was  not  for- 
gotten by  any  means.  The  President  returned 
to  the  office  from  time  to  time  for  the  purpose  of 
giving  me  an  introduction  to  gentlemen  who 
were  interested  in  the  railroad  business,  and  with 
whom  he  wished  me  to  converse.  But  when  fin- 
ally his  morning's  work  was  over,  he  seated  him- 
self at  the  desk  and  proceeded  to  tell  me  how 


A    STUDY    OF   THREE    PRESIDENTS      211 

much  he  was  interested  in  the  problems  that  we 
are  confronted  with  to-day  on  American  railroads. 
Then  he  asked  me  a  few  questions  in  regard  to  the 
situation.  I  was  about  to  answer  when  the  Pres- 
ident turned  to  a  bundle  of  documents  that  were 
stacked  upon  his  desk  and  began  to  read  and 
sign  them.  Naturally  I  thought  it  my  duty  to 
stop  talking  until  he  was  disengaged,  but  he 
looked  up  from  his  work  and  said,  "Pay  no  atten- 
tion to  me;  keep  right  on  talking."  So  I  spun  out 
a  yarn  that  occupied  fully  ten  minutes.  During 
this  time  the  President  had  been  busy  reading 
and  signing  all  sorts  of  letters  and  documents, 
long  and  short,  and  affixing  his  autograph  to 
photographs  and  miscellaneous  programmes  and 
such-like.  But  I  could  see  that  his  mind  was  in- 
tently fixed  on  his  work,  for  every  once  in  a  while 
he  would  throw  a  paper  on  one  side  without  his 
signature,  and  for  this  reason  I  could  n't  imag- 
ine it  possible  that  he  was  also  listening  to  me. 
Yet  such  was  the  actual  fact,  for  later,  when  he 
gave  me  his  undivided  attention,  he  brought 
out  the  points  of  my  argument  just  like  a  lawyer 
analyzing  the  testimony  of  a  witness. 

But  you  could  no  more  confine  the  President's 
interest  or  conversation  to  the  railroad  business 
than  you  could  confine  a  rainstorm  to  a  square 
foot  of  territory.  He  fairly  revels  among  the  big 
issues  that  are  uppermost  in  the  minds  of  stu- 


212    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

dents  of  American  conditions  and  civilization. 
He  laid  particular  emphasis  upon  the  laboring- 
man  and  his  power  and  influence  upon  the  desti- 
nies of  the  country.  The  bold  peasantry,  the 
strong-limbed,  stout-hearted  artisan,  their  coun- 
try's pride,  are  the  national  backbone.  The  main- 
stay of  any  nation  is,  after  all,  to  a  great  extent, 
brawn  and  muscle.  And  yet  he  was  by  no  means 
forgetful  of  the  ethics  of  strength  and  the  im- 
portance of  character.  For  his  own  boy  to  break 
his  collar-bone  was  a  trifle,  to  breaking  his  word. 
The  influence  that  the  accumulation  of  riches 
has  upon  the  national  character  was  another  of 
his  topics.  "What  is  your  pay  per  day?"  he 
asked.  I  told  him.  "Well,"  he  replied,  "your 
wealth  bears  about  the  same  proportion  to  mine 
that  mine  does  to  the  multi-millionaire.  Not  so 
long  ago  we  heard  that  Mr.  So  and  So  was  com- 
ing to  live  at  Oyster  Bay.  The  news  caused  a 
mild  sensation,  even  among  the  well-to-do  resid- 
ents. If  there  is  anything  that  one  enjoys  at 
these  small  places  in  the  country,  or  the  seashore, 
it  is  the  simplicity  of  our  everyday  life  and  of  our 
surroundings.  Yet  one  and  all  of  us  at  Oyster 
Bay  understood  only  too  well  that  if  So  and  So 
with  his  unlimited  wealth  and  love  of  display,  set- 
tled down  in  our  midst;,  it  meant  good-bye  to 
everything  that  made  Oyster  Bay  such  a  delight- 
ful retreat.   We  knew  our  simple  and  eflScient 


A    STUDY   OF   THREE    PRESIDENTS      213 

servant-maids  would  be  displaced,  sooner  or 
later,  by  butlers,  in  all  the  pomp  of  livery  and 
buttons.  Our  modest  pony  carriages  would  be- 
come chariots  with  prancing  horses;  our  unob- 
trusive cottages  would  give  place  to  luxurious 
palaces,  and  our  comfortable  work-a-day  cloth- 
ing would,  to  a  great  extent,  be  discarded  for  a 
mere  display  of  fashion  and  expensive  fabric.  In 
a  word,  the  money -god  would  soon  become  su- 
preme instead  of  the  simple  deities,  whose  wor- 
ship endears  to  us  the  woods,  the  fields,  and  the 
home.  The  nation  at  large  has  to  guard  against 
the  same  dangers  that  threatened  our  community 
at  Oyster  Bay." 

Then  the  President  arose,  and  shaking  my 
hand  said  to  me,  "I  am  very  glad  you  came  to  see 
me.  I  wish  to  encourage  you,  and  I  intend  to 
follow  your  work  very  closely." 

At  this  moment  the  chief  usher  glided  quietly  in- 
to the  room.  I  honestly  think  he  was  half  ashamed 
of  himself,  and  no  wonder.  He  held  in  his  hand  a 
final  list  of  unfortunates  who  were  still  waiting 
their  turn  in  the  anteroom.  I  think  the  move- 
ments of  the  usher  were  a  faithful  reflection  of 
his  feelings.  He  came  in  and  crossed  the  room 
sidewise,  so  to  speak,  and  actually  described  a 
semicircle  before  he  arrived  within  speaking  dis- 
tance of  the  President.  Merely  glancing  at  the 
proffered    list.    President    Roosevelt    shook    his 


214    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

head  —  a  trifle  wearily,  I  thought  —  and  as 
nearly  as  I  can  remember  the  words,  exclaimed: 
"Very  sorry,  indeed,  but  not  to-day,  utterly  im- 
possible." 

A  few  months  later  I  was  afforded  an  oppor- 
tunity to  meet  the  President  of  Harvard  Uni- 
versity. As  an  impressionist  I  have  very  little  to 
say  about  Dr.  Eliot.  I  don't  think  he  lends  him- 
self, in  the  slightest  degree,  to  an  observer  from 
that  point  of  view.  But  just  where  the  impres- 
sionist comes  to  a  standstill  for  lack  of  material, 
the  student  begins  to  get  busy.  Without  any  re- 
flection on  men  of  pronounced  ideas  and  assert- 
ive personality,  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  as 
one  approaches  the  highest  levels  of  intellectual 
and  spiritual  achievement,  the  more  diflScult  it  is 
likely  to  become  for  the  ordinary  observer  to 
"find  the  mind's  construction  in  the  face."  Hap- 
pily, however,  students  and  disciples  are  gifted 
with  a  keener  insight.  To  them  it  is  given  to 
penetrate,  just  as  far  as  they  can  appreciate.  The 
intuition  of  such  people  pays  little  attention  to 
appearances,  and  when  they  go  forth  into  the 
wilderness  to  meet  John  the  Baptist,  they  at 
once  recognize  the  man  whose  image  is  in  their 
own  hearts. 

Nevertheless  I  think  it  is  true,  in  the  main, 
that  in  forming  opinions  of  people  one's  mental 
camera  is  usually  on  the  watch  for  characteristics 


A   STUDY   OF   THREE    PRESIDENTS      215 

that  jut  out,  unconsciously  or  otherwise,  in  lan- 
guage or  behavior.  The  impressionist  is  eager  to 
seize  upon  and  to  emphasize  these  obtrusions. 
At  first  sight  this  may  appear  to  be  a  common- 
place method  of  securing  material  for  intelligent 
portrait  studies,  and  yet  in  many  cases  the  indi- 
cations are  reliable  and  one  can  easily  detect  these 
"hall  marks"  of  a  man's  nature,  which  suggest, 
quite  forcibly  at  times,  his  individual  route  to 
fame  or  fortune. 

President  Mellen,  for  example,  has  certain 
well-defined  obtrusions.  Though  unmistakable 
in  their  significance,  they  are  nearly  all  of  a  nega- 
tive character.  The  conclusions  you  arrive  at  in 
regard  to  his  splendid  intellectual  equipment  and 
his  far-reaching  business  acumen  are  all  your  own. 
They  are  the  deductions  or  impressions  which 
you  have  gathered  from  sources  which  perhaps 
you  cannot  even  name.  This  kind  of  an  impres- 
sion stands  at  the  head  of  its  class.  Under  its  in- 
fluence your  opinion  is  formed  quickly  and  posi- 
tively, and  you  give  but  little  thought  to  the  evi- 
dence. The  blind  God  himself  works  along  these 
lines.   You  love  and  know  not  how  or  why. 

But  impressions  of  the  second  class  are  alto- 
gether different.  They  are  adulterated  with  out- 
side influences,  and  consequently  they  rank  lower 
in  the  scale  of  impressions. 

President  Roosevelt,  for  example,  has  a  score 


216    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

of  obtrusions  of  the  most  positive  character.  Your 
impressions  of  him  are  not  intuitions  at  all,  for 
the  evidence  has  been  placed  before  you,  and  your 
verdict  has  been  invited.  He  first  twangs  his  bow 
to  attract  your  attention,  so  there  is  no  mystery 
about  the  shaft  that  strikes  you  so  fairly  and 
squarely.  Doubtless  the  impression  you  receive 
is  vivid  enough,  but  it  is  not  an  unassisted  inter- 
pretation of  your  own,  for  your  subject  has  said  to 
you  in  so  many  words,  "Take  this  medicine;  — 
now  what  do  you  think  of  me?"  Under  such  cir- 
cumstances many  of  us  are  as  clay  in  the  hands 
of  the  potter. 

But  there  is  another —  a  third  class  of  im- 
pressions. They  are  not  easily  or  lightly  arrived 
at.  They  rank  very  low  as  impressions  and  very 
high  as  interpretations.  A  portrait  study  derived 
from  impressions  of  the  third  class  is  the  most 
instructive  and  delightful  of  all.  As  I  have  else- 
where remarked,  where  the  impressionist  halts 
for  lack  of  material,  the  student  is  called  upon  to 
consider  the  problem. 

During  a  conversation  with  Dr.  Eliot,  that 
lasted  nearly  an  hour,  I  was  unable  to  detect  any 
mannerisms  or  obtrusions  of  any  kind.  I  failed 
to  note  any  marked  characteristics,  either  of 
thought  or  behavior.  And  yet,  while  I  was  un- 
conscious of  any  offhand  impressions,  I  was  con- 
vinced that  a  little  quiet  study  would  be  likely 


A    STUDY  OF   THREE    PRESIDENTS      217 

to  bring  interesting  facts  to  the  surface.  I  got 
this  idea  into  my  head  from  the  satisfaction  I  re- 
ceived from  my  interview. 

I  called  to  mind  the  physical  portrait  of  the 
man  sitting  gracefully  upright  in  the  armchair. 
While  there  was  unmistakable  dignity  in  the  fig- 
ure, it  was  the  apparent  ease  with  which  it  was 
carried  that  attracted  my  attention.  In  fact,  to 
me,  the  most  significant  feature  about  Dr.  El- 
iot's appearance  was  the  strange  absence  of  any 
indication  of  weight  or  importance.  As  with  his 
physical  appearance,  so  with  his  conversation  and 
movements.  The  same  easy  dignity,  the  same 
lightness  of  touch,  was  over  all.  This  absence  of 
weight  or  effort,  where  the  indication  of  such 
might  reasonably  be  expected  in  art  and  litera- 
ture, for  example,  surely  denotes  achievement 
of  the  highest  order.  On  the  face  of  the  master- 
piece there  are  no  traces  of  the  price,  in  toil  and 
thought,  that  has  been  expended  in  its  produc- 
tion. In  this  way,  after  many  days,  perfection 
pays  tribute  to  its  childlike  origin. 

Without  doubt  President  Eliot  has  his  likes 
and  dislikes,  but  so  far  as  I  could  detect,  he  has 
no  quarrel  with  anybody.  His  kindly  smile  and 
the  quiet  emphasis  of  his  manner  impart  to  his 
conversation  a  soothing  and  satisfying  effect 
which  is  very  pleasing  to  the  listener.  There  is 
no  suspicion  of  dogmatism.  He  does  not  say,  "I 


218    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

like  this  and  dislike  that";  but  rather,  "The  situa- 
tion is  so  and  so,  consequently  our  work  lies  in 
this  direction  —  there  all  the  honor  lies." 

Looking  before  and  after,  that  is  to  say,  from 
what  I  have  read  about  Dr.  Eliot,  added  now  to 
my  personal  notes,  I  am  inclined  to  focus  my  por- 
trait of  him  into  two  words,  namely,  penetration 
and  radiation.  In  a  greater  and  a  wider  sense  he 
possesses  the  penetration  of  President  Mellen 
and  the  radiating  qualities  of  President  Roose- 
velt. But  he  stands  a  head  taller  than  these  men 
for  the  reason  that  in  his  hands  the  fruits  of  these 
faculties  are  simplified,  organized,  and  solem- 
nized. By  penetration  and  radiation,  I  mean  the 
ability  to  discover  and  spread  abroad,  in  the 
sanest  and  happiest  fashion,  whatsoever  things 
are  true  and  beautiful, 

I  think  President  Eliot  is  entitled  to  preemi- 
nence for  another  reason.  In  the  course  of  con- 
versation it  occurred  to  me  that  at  the  end  of  Dr. 
Eliot's  sentences  there  is  nearly  always  an  im- 
plied or  real  interrogation  point.  He  frequently 
halts  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence  and  invites  his 
listener  to  pick  up  and  carry  the  idea  along.  To 
me  this  seemed  to  be  a  delightful  concession. 
While  others  are  interested  in  their  own  hobbies 
and  personality.  Dr.  Eliot,  above  all  things,  ap- 
pears to  be  interested  in  you,  his  visitor.  In  this 
way  the  element  of  self-forgetfulness  is  intro: 


A   STUDY   OF   THREE   PRESIDENTS      219 

duced,  which  is  the  crowning  test  of  excellence  in 
work  and  endeavor  of  nearly  every  description. 

Taking  leave  of  Dr.  Eliot  as  he  stood  in  his 
own  doorway,  I  called  to  mind  one  of  Thomas 
Carlyle's  most  notable  portrait  studies:  "The 
reader  is  invited  to  mark  this  monk.  A  person- 
able man  .  .  .  stands  erect  as  a  pillar;  the  eyes 
of  him  beaming  into  you  in  a  really  strange  way; 
the  face  massive  grave  with  'a  very  eminent  nose.* 
This  is  Brother  Samson,  a  man  worth  looking  at." 


VIII 

THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS 


I  NOW  find  myself,  towards  the  close  of  my  au- 
tobiography, face  to  face  with  the  present  day  and 
some  of  its  problems.  To  begin  with,  there  are 
many  reasons  for  looking  upon  the  modern  rail- 
road as  the  storm  centre  of  political  and  industrial 
activity.  The  American  railroad  to-day  in  var- 
ious ways  and  with  a  significance  that  is  unmis- 
takable, propounds  to  the  people  the  riddle  of 
social  and  industrial  progress.  Private  or  public 
ownership,  which?  That  is  to  say,  private  or  pub- 
lic ownership  and  direction  of  brains,  of  industrial 
standards,  of  business  ideals,  of  individual  char- 
acter? In  other  words,  democracy  or  socialism? 
On  the  one  hand  well-regulated  social,  industrial, 
and  political  freedom;  on  the  other,  social,  indus- 
trial, and  political  boirdage. 

The  situation  itself  on  the  railroads,  where  the 
problem  is  now  being  thought  out  and  fought  out 
in  all  its  variations,  is  very  instructive.  It  abounds 
with  concrete  illustrations.  For  example,  do  you 
wish  to  experiment  with  an  invention  of  any  kind? 
Try  it  on  the  railroad.   Would  you  like  to  test 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS        221 

any  social  or  industrial  reform  movement?  Try 
it  on  the  railroad.  Would  you  like  to  know  any- 
thing about  efficiency  results  relating  to  the 
"bonus"  and  "piece"  systems?  Give  them  a 
trial  on  the  railroads.  Would  you  like  to  know 
the  meaning  in  America  of  private  rights  and 
public  utilities?  Apply  and  stretch  the  ideas  to 
the  breaking  point  and  then  study  the  problems 
exhaustively  on  the  railroads,  and  at  their  ex- 
pense. Do  you  wish  to  know  to  what  extent  la- 
bor should  be  permitted  to  dominate  capital  and 
to  establish  its  own  standards  of  wages,  condi- 
tions, and  efficiency?  Just  stand  on  one  side  and 
watch  the  game.  It  seems  to  be  all  the  same  to 
the  spectators.  Let  the  contestants  fight  these 
problems  out  to  the  end  on  the  railroad.  The 
railroad  exchequer,  the  managing  department, 
and  the  public  safety  are  at  stake.  But  never 
mind;  the  backing  of  a  few  votes  is  sufficient  to 
dump  anything  on  to  the  railroads  for  experi- 
mental purposes. 

Now  the  most  important  and  penetrating  fac- 
tor in  the  railroad  situation  to-day  is  the  power 
of  the  labor  union.  The  extent  of  this  industrial 
power  can  be  illustrated  by  a  matter-of-fact 
statement,  made  recently  to  an  audience  in  Mass- 
achusetts, by  Chief  Stone,  of  the  Brotherhood  of 
Locomotive  Engineers,  substantially  as  follows: 
"Practically  speaking,   I  am  not  responsible  to 


222    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

any  one.  I  have  so  much  power  I  really  don't 
know  what  to  do  with  it.  It  is  simply  running 
over."  This  statement  is  by  no  means  a  figure  of 
speech.  Illustrations  of  the  nature  and  efficiency 
of  this  power  abound.  For  instance,  on  July  15 
of  the  present  year  representatives  of  fifty  rail- 
roads east  of  Chicago  and  north  of  the  Ohio  River 
met  the  official  heads  of  their  Locomotive  Engin- 
eers' Unions  before  an  arbitration  commission, 
at  the  Oriental  Hotel,  Manhattan  Beach,  in  an 
effort  to  reach  a  settlement  of  differences  which 
recently  threatened  to  result  in  a  strike  that 
would  have  paralyzed  the  industries  of  the  coun- 
try. Increased  pay,  estimated  at  $7,500,000  per 
year,  and  better  working  conditions  for  engin- 
eers were  involved.  In  presenting  the  case  of 
the  men  Mr.  Stone  informed  the  commission 
that  "Not  only  are  the  eyes  of  labor  and  capital 
watching  the  outcome  of  this  hearing,  but  organ- 
ized labor  the  world  over  is  waiting  to  learn 
whether  the  dawn  of  a  new  era  is  at  hand,  or  if  we 
are  to  take  a  step  backward." 

But  whether,  in  the  words  of  Mr.  Stone,  "or- 
ganized labor  the  world  over  is  waiting  to  learn 
whether  the  dawn  of  a  new  era  is  at  hand,  or  if  we 
are  to  take  a  step  backward,"  may  fairly  be  left 
to  the  judgment  of  other  railroad  men,  more 
numerous  by  far  and  not  nearly  so  well  paid  as 
engineers.  A  large  and  enthusiastic  conference  of 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS       223 

these  men  was  held  in  New  York  a  short  time  ago. 
The  object  of  the  gathering  was  to  protest  against 
the  extravagant  demands  of  the  engineers  for 
more  pay,  which,  if  granted,  would  place  a  host 
of  more  needy  and  deserving  men  on  the  waiting 
list,  so  far  as  any  increase  of  pay  is  concerned,  for 
at  least  five  years.  Those  who  participated  in  the 
conference  were  the  accredited  representatives 
of  the  station  agents,  signalmen,  operators,  signal 
maintainers,  etc.,  in  the  employ  of  the  Pennsyl- 
vania, Reading,  New  York,  New  Haven  and  Hart- 
ford, Boston  and  Maine,  Boston  and  Albany, 
Rutland,  and  other  Eastern  lines.  The  consen- 
sus of  opinion  at  this  meeting  was  that  "before 
the  higher  paid  classes  of  railroad  labor  should 
be  granted  any  further  increases  from  the  em- 
ploying corporations,  those  employes  receiving  a 
much  lower  rate  of  compensation,  but  whose  faith- 
ful and  local  service  is  none  the  less  important 
and  essential  to  the  safe  and  successful  conduct 
of  railroad  property,  such  as  carmen,  signal- 
men, agents,  operators,  dispatchers,  trackmen, 
and  the  clerical  forces,  should  receive  favorable 
consideration  of  the  supervising  and  responsible 
oflScials,  as  well  as  that  of  the  investors  in  rail- 
road property." 

The  question  of  the  right  of  way  of  the  Grand 
Trunk  Railroad  into  New  England  furnishes  an- 
other illustration  of  the  self-centred  policy  and 


224    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

the  use  of  its  power  by  an  up-to-date  labor  union 
on  American  railroads.  On  March  10,  1912,  the 
Boston  division  of  the  Brotherhood  of  Locomo- 
tive Engineers  unanimously  voted  to  oppose  the 
entrance  of  the  Grand  Trunk  Railroad  into  this 
city,  on  the  grounds  that  it  will  adversely  affect 
the  conditions  of  railroad  employes  in  this  section 
of  the  country.  Word  was  received  from  inter- 
national headquarters  that  the  Grand  Trunk  had 
issued  a  notice  that  the  wages  of  all  train  service 
employes  including  the  engineers  would  be  cut. 
This  action  of  the  Grand  Trunk  and  the  compet- 
itive wage  ideas  of  the  road  made  it  undesirable 
to  railroad  employes  for  the  road  to  come  here. 
Consequently  the  Brotherhood  voted  to  use  every 
honorable  means  to  block  the  road's  entrance  into 
Boston. 

But  this  labor  organization,  justly  founded,  to 
begin  with,  to  secure  for  the  worker  better  con- 
ditions and  fairer  treatment,  is  not  only  found 
working  on  principles  against  the  interests  of  the 
community,  but  it  seems  to-day  to  be  placing  a 
ban  on  constituted  and  reasonable  authority. 
Just  what  this  means  to  the  people  at  large  can 
be  clearly  illustrated  by  a  glance  at  the  present- 
day  situation  on  one  of  the  most  extensive  and 
best  managed  railroad  systems  in  America.  Under 
date  of  June  15  of  the  present  year,  the  Pennsyl- 
vania Railroad  Company  issued  a  general  notice 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS        225 

to  all  employes,  which  read,  in  part,  as  follows: 
"Thirty-five  requests  were  made  on  this  company 
by  its  conductors,  trainmen,  and  firenlen.  Twenty- 
nine  have  either  been  settled  satisfactorily  by  the 
company  or  withdrawn  by  the  representatives  of 
the  men.  We  are  now  informed  that  a  strike  vote 
of  the  employes  will  be  taken  to  determine 
whether  or  not  they  are  willing  to  leave  the  serv- 
ice of  the  company  to  enforce  these  six  remain- 
ing questions." 

One  of  these  unsettled  issues  between  the  men 
and  the  company  was  purely  a  matter  of  disci- 
pline or  authority.  The  demand  of  the  men  and 
the  answer  of  the  railroad  officials  were  as  fol- 
lows :  — 

^^ Demand.  That  Engineman  H.  F.  Krepps  be 
paid  for  time  lost  on  account  of  a  suspension  of 
ninety  days  imposed  upon  him  on  the  charge  of 
low  water  in  his  engine." 

^^ Answer.  All  the  evidence  in  this  case  has 
again  been  carefully  considered  and  indicates 
that  our  former  decision  is  correct,  that  the  case 
was  carefully  reviewed  by  the  best  experts  on 
this  subject  obtainable,  and  the  conclusion  was 
that  the  engineer  was  derelict.  These  experts 
were  impartial  and  ex-parte.  Therefore,  no  pay 
can  be  allowed  on  account  of  suspension.  If  any 
new  evidence  is  developed,  the  case  can  be  re- 
opened with  the  division  officers." 


226    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

The  conservation  of  authority  and  discipline 
on  railroads  is  a  matter  in  which  the  general 
public  is  vitally  interested.  During  the  month 
when  this  matter  was  being  thrashed  out  there 
were  something  like  eighty  passengers  killed 
and  twice  that  number  injured  in  two  accidents, 
and  during  the  past  year  one  hundred  seventy- 
one  persons  lost  their  lives  and  nine  hundred 
thirty-one  were  injured  in  accidents  caused  by 
engineers  running  past  danger  signals.  In  fact, 
the  year  1912  is  already  unfavorably  distin- 
guished in  railroad  history  for  disastrous  collis- 
ions and  derailments  of  trains.  In  a  recent  issue 
of  the  "Railway  Age  Gazette"  a  superintendent 
has  described  the  situation  that,  to  a  great  ex- 
tent, accounts  for  these  accidents,  as  it  seems  to 
me,  in  language  that  the  public  is  called  upon  to 
consider  with  all  seriousness. 

"When  you  get  down  to  the  facts,"  he  affirms, 
"the  superintendent  is  the  man  who  bears  the 
main  burden  of  responsibility.  He  and  his  train- 
masters stand  almost,  if  not  quite,  alone  in  the 
fight  to  remove  'the  cause  of  causes'  of  accidents. 
But  we  must  not  forget  that  he  is  surrounded  by 
influences  which  largely  defeat  his  efforts  and  will 
continue  to  do  so  until  there  is  a  general  educa- 
tion of  the  public  to  the  real  conditions  and  real 
responsibilities  in  the  matter. 

"First,  you  have  the  man  who,  backed  as  he 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS        227 

knows  by  the  strength  of  his  brotherhood,  be- 
comes slack  and  acquires  slovenly  habits  of  mind 
instead  of  being  wide-awake,  alert,  and  alive  to 
his  responsibilities  while  on  the  road. 

"Second,  you  must  not  overlook  the  high-sal- 
aried general  chairman  of  the  Brotherhood  Griev- 
ance Committee  who  ought  to  stand  behind  the 
superintendent  and  assist  him  in  his  efforts  to  se- 
cure safe  operation,  by  discipline  if  necessary,  but 
who  does  not.  On  the  contrary,  he  is  paid  for  and 
spends  nearly  all  of  his  time  in  relieving  men  of 
discipline,  practically  without  regard  to  the  cause 
of  the  discipline.  He  frequently  goes  to  the  gen- 
eral superintendent  or  general  manager  and  in- 
dicates that  certain  superintendents  and  certain 
trainmasters  are  not  fair  to  their  men  and  impose 
discipline  when  the  men  are  not  at  fault. 

"Third,  we  have  the  general  superintendent  or 
general  manager,  who  (perhaps  naturally),  see- 
ing the  shadow  of  the  great  power  of  the  Brother- 
hood behind  the  general  chairman,  listens  to  his 
story  and  not  infrequently  forms  an  opinion  that 
this  or  that  superintendent  is  unpopular  with  his 
men.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  the  superintend- 
ent is  always  right,  but  I  do  mean  to  say  that  his 
efforts  toward  securing  safe  operation  are  largely 
defeated  by  the  labor  organizations  which,  bj^  the 
efforts  of  the  general  chairman,  are  frequently 
able  to  have  good  discipline  nullified.   I  also  mean 


228    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

to  say  that  the  general  chairmen  frequently  inti- 
mate or  openly  say  that  they  will  take  cases  in 
dispute  higher  and  have  the  superintendent's  de- 
cision reversed  when  the  decision  of  the  superin- 
tendent is  absolutely  proper.  Also,  it  may  be 
added  that  they  are  usually  successful  when  this 
is  done.  The  large  number  of  cases  carried  over 
the  superintendent's  head  is  sufficient  proof  of 
the  fact  that  the  activity  of  general  chairmen  and 
the  influence  of  the  brotherhoods  are  very  import- 
ant factors  working  against  safe  operation. 

"Fourth,  we  have  the  public,  always  ready  to 
criticize  and  rarely  to  commend,  in  whose  eye  the 
conductor  is  a  semi-hero  and  the  engineer  a  real, 
dyed-in-the-wool  hero,  who  'sticks  to  his  post.' 
As  a  general  proposition,  I  believe  it  may  be 
safely  said,  the  public  stands  behind  the  man  or 
the  labor  organization  and  against  the  railway 
corporation  in  the  case  of  controversy  or  accident. 

"All  of  these  are  unhealthy  conditions,  and  we 
shall  continue  to  have  accidents  as  long  as  they 
exist.  Automatic  block  signals  and  automatic 
stops  will  not  stop  them.  It  is  my  humble  opin- 
ion that  they  will  not  cease  to  exist  until  the  pub- 
lic becomes  sufficiently  educated  to  forget  all  the 
sentimental  twaddle  about  the  engineman  or  the 
conductor  being  a  hero,  and  begins  to  look  on 
them  in  a  natural  way  as  plain,  ordinary  men  who 
have  plain,  simple  duties  to  perform  and  no  ex- 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS        229 

cuse  for  not  performing  them.  Further,  the  pub- 
he  must  get  in  behind  the  superintendent  and 
back  him  up  in  his  efforts  to  secure  safety.  The 
other  things  will  then  take  care  of  themselves. 

"If  I  have  written  in  plain  language  it  is  also 
because  I  am  interested.  All  the  hand  signals, 
block  signal  systems,  cab  signals,  automatic 
stops,  safety  trips,  or  other  devices  you  would 
place  on  the  railway  right-of-way  will  not  accom- 
plish a  fraction  of  one  per  cent  of  what  public  edu- 
cation and  opinion  may  do  to  remove  'the  cause 
of  causes.'" 

n 

But  while  the  accident  situation  in  the  riddle 
of  the  railroads  demands  the  earnest  considera- 
tion of  the  people  at  large,  there  are  also  financial 
and  industrial  problems  that  are  pressing  for  solu- 
tion. The  demands  of  the  enginemen  for  increased 
wages  and  better  conditions,  which  has  already 
been  referred  to  in  this  chapter,  is  a  typical  case 
in  point.  On  the  Boston  and  Maine  Railroad,  for 
example,  the  new  scale,  as  proposed,  would  cost 
$300,000  a  year,  and  last  year  the  road  only 
earned  that  amount  above  legitimate  expenses  and 
indebtedness.  If  similar  increases  for  other  em- 
ployes were  added,  and  this,  of  course,  is  inevi- 
table, it  would  mean  that  the  Boston  and  Maine 
would  not  be  able  to  meet  the  interest  on  its  bonds. 


230    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

and  would  be  about  $1,000,000  short  of  enough  to 
pay  the  rental  of  leased  Imes.  According  to  this 
understanding  this  would  mean  that  the  system 
would  have  to  disintegrate. 

But  from  the  people's  standpoint  there  are 
other  features  connected  with  the  demands  of 
enginemen  that  are  still  more  important.  Neither 
industrial  peace  nor  a  solution  of  the  wage 
problem  is  in  sight,  whatever  these  arbitrators 
may  see  fit  to  conclude  in  such  matters.  If  the 
arbitrators  should  grant  every  demand  of  the 
employes,  will  they,  the  employes,  be  satisfied? 
At  the  end  of  a  year  or  two  there  is  no  doubt, 
based  on  previous  experience,  that  this  country 
would  again  be  confronted  with  a  crisis.  It  is  a 
great  pity  that  the  public  should  be  alarmed  in 
this  way  every  three  or  four  months  and  that  the 
railways  and  the  employes  should  be  required  to 
go  to  this  expense  and  loss  of  time  and  never  dis- 
cover a  process  of  settlement. 

The  power  invested  in  labor  leaders,  with  the 
absence  of  responsibility,  is  alarming.  While 
they  have  the  vote  and  endorsement  of  the  men 
they  represent,  yet  the  moving  spirit  is  the  leader. 
In  the  past  five  years,  for  example,  the  Erie  Rail- 
road Company  has  received  five  strike  votes. 
The  leader  in  charge  claimed  he  had  the  power 
to  stop  the  highways  of  this  country,  and  ex- 
pressed his  intention  to  exercise  this  prerogative 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS        231 

of  labor.  To  appreciate  the  gravity  of  this  situa- 
tion let  us  imagine  any  other  individual  —  a 
president  of  a  railway,  or  its  directors,  assuming 
to  stop  the  public  highways  for  any  reason  and 
deprive  forty  to  fifty  millions  of  citizens  of  the 
necessities  of  life!  There  is  no  law  to  cover  the 
action  or  determine  the  responsibility  of  the  labor 
leaders  who  possess  this  great  power,  and  who 
have  repeatedly  stated  their  intention  to  exer- 
cise it.  The  best  test  of  their  power  is  for  the 
general  public  to  attempt  to  pass  a  federal  law  to 
place  responsibility  upon  organized  labor  en- 
gaged in  interstate  traffic.  If  the  common  car- 
riers are  responsible  to  the  public,  as  operating 
agents,  why  should  not  employes,  organized  or 
otherwise,  be  held  responsible  to  some  extent  to 
perform  their  duties  to  the  public,  as  part  of  the 
complete  transportation  organization?  Organ- 
ized labor  appears  to  resent  every  effort  to  apply 
responsibility. 

Doubtless  the  enginemen  are  engaged  in  a  very 
laudable  desire  to  secure  an  increase  in  their  com- 
pensation, but  the  inability  to  pay  was  clearly 
explained  to  them.  Such  evidence,  however,  was 
not  effective,  and  it  is  regretted  that  one  of  the 
strongest  and  most  intelligent  of  organizations 
is  not  influenced  by  the  financial  condition  which 
is  essential  to  a  proper  solution  of  industrial 
problems.   A  president  of  a  strong  labor  organi- 


232    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

zation,  within  a  year  requesting  a  substantial 
increase,  was  asked  by  the  committee  whether 
he  had  considered  the  abihty  of  the  railways  to 
pay,  and  where  the  money  was  to  come  from;  he 
replied  that  he  was  not  a  financier  and  really  did 
not  know,  and  yet  he  had  the  power  to  stop 
the  wheels  on  every  railway  in  the  United 
States. 

In  the  opinion  of  the  writer  it  is  proper  to  regu- 
late the  common  carrier,  but  it  is  equally  essen- 
tial to  regulate  labor  organizations  engaged  in 
public  transportation.  Organized  labor  is  an  in- 
stitution, and,  in  the  conduct  of  quasi-public 
properties,  it  should  share  in  public  regulation  to 
the  same  general  extent,  now,  or  in  the  future, 
exercised  over  transportation.  The  proper  treat- 
ment of  conditions  such  as  these  is  manifestly 
the  regulation  of  labor  unions  by  the  Govern- 
ment and  the  recognition,  by  public  opinion,  that 
in  a  majority  of  cases  a  labor  union  is  an  associa- 
tion of  men  or  women  dealing  in  an  actual  pro- 
duct and  organized  for  profit. 

To  complicate  the  riddle  of  the  railroads,  how- 
ever, just  when  managers  and  men  are  trying  to 
work  out  a  reasonable  and  satisfactory  modus 
vivendi,  the  scientific  engineer  appears  on  the 
scene.  As  I  look  at  it  this  feature  of  the  riddle 
of  the  railroads  to-day  is  most  peculiar.  It  is  a 
strong  masterful  situation,  a  climbing,  struggling. 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS        233 

hopeful  situation  teeming  with  human  problems 
of  tremendous  importance,  which  are  being 
worked  out  in  a  surprising  way  by  certain  forces 
that  have  never  before  had  the  handling  of  affairs 
in  the  world's  history. 

However,  connected  with  betterment  work  of 
every  description  in  a  democratic  country,  there 
are  always  certain  drawbacks  and  issues  relating 
to  the  wishes  and  conduct  of  individuals  and 
workers  that  wait  for  consideration  and  solution 
at  every  stage  of  the  game.  In  this  way,  and  very 
naturally,  the  problems  relating  to  scientific 
management  on  railroads  call  for  a  careful  scru- 
tiny of  the  conditions  and  the  men  to  which  our 
scientific  principles  are  to  be  applied. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  then,  on  the  railroads  to- 
day, the  principal  factor  with  which  the  scientific 
engineer  has  to  deal  is  the  employe.  It  is  becom- 
ing more  and  more  apparent  to  those  who  are 
carefully  watching  the  trend  of  affairs  in  the  rail- 
road world  that  the  responsibility  for  peaceful 
or  violent  readjustment  of  railway  conditions  in 
the  future  will,  and  must,  rest  with  these  wage 
earners.  And  as  far  as  I  can  make  out,  these  em- 
ployes do  not  wish  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
scientific  experiments  in  regard  to  their  pay-rolls 
and  their  conditions.  This  is  actually  the  individ- 
ual and  collective  decision  of  labor  on  the  subject. 
The  way  the  two  forces,  labor  and  management. 


234    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

line  up  on  the  matter  is  somewhat  as  follows: 
Scientific  management  says  to  the  employe : 
"Look  here,  I  am  running  this  business  and  I 
have  worked  out  and  drawn  up  a  scientific  sched- 
ule. I  propose  to  standardize  conditions,  opera- 
tions, and  pay-roll.  By  this  method  better  work, 
better  wages  and,  withal,  a  true  economic  sys- 
tem of  operation  can  be  assured  all  around.  I 
would  like  to  secure  your  co-operation  in  the  mat- 
ter. Your  job  is  now  going  to  pay  a  wage  in  a 
general  way,  according  to  the  brains  and  energy 
you  put  into  it." 

On  the  other  hand  the  employe  retorts :  — 
"To  begin  with,"  he  says,  "I  am  not  so  sure 
about  your  position.  In  fact,  I  come  pretty  near 
running  a  good  share  of  this  business  myself.  So 
I  may  as  well  tell  you  right  off,  that  this  job  is 
going  to  pay  me  not  exactly  what  I  put  into  it, 
but  just  as  much  as  by  hook  or  by  crook  I  can  get 
out  of  it." 

Of  course  it  is  easy  enough  for  scientific  people 
to  suggest  all  sorts  of  economies  and  improve- 
ments. But  the  Lbor  interest  is  a  tremendous 
force  on  the  railroad  nowadays,  and  at  all  costs 
it  must  get  along  harmoniously  with  the  manage- 
ment. In  butting  in  and  forcing  the  situation,  and 
in  trying  to  hold  the  modern  manager  up  to  pub- 
lic censure  on  account  of  his  unscientific  methods 
in  spots  and  places  public  opinion  is  doing  more 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS        235 

harm  than  good.  And  by  the  way,  what  is  the 
rest  of  the  world  doing  all  this  time  along  the 
same  lines?  Have  they,  too,  got  the  scientific  bug 
in  their  bonnets?  Not  a  bit  of  it.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  for  a  number  of  years  past  the  railroad  em- 
ploye, whom  we  now  propose  to  doctor  in  this 
way,  has  been  systematically  pillaged  and  abused 
by  outside  forces  in  no  way  connected  with  the 
railroads  that  have  no  desire  to  be  scientifically 
treated  themselves.  I  am  not  one  of  those  who 
believe  in  unnecessary  muckraking,  or  in  the  rat- 
tling of  dead  bones,  but  the  employe  must  not  be 
deprived  of  his  illustration,  especially  when  evils 
still  exist  perhaps  in  modified  form.  So  address- 
ing himself  to  public  opinion  he  remarks,  "What 
do  you  think  of  a  sum  of  nine  thousand  dollars 
awarded  to  the  widow  of  a  railroad  man,  whit- 
tled down  to  three  thousand  before  she  even 
got  a  peck  at  it?"  I  suppose  public  opinion 
would  be  still  more  emphatically  shocked  if 
I  were  to  insinuate  that  even  in  a  single  instance 
in  the  confusion  of  a  railroad  wreck  an  arm  has 
been  deliberately  and  intentionally  amputated 
instead  of  a  finger  on  account  of  the  extra  re- 
muneration attached  to  it.  Is  this  scientific  treat- 
ment? 

But  railroad  labor  is  not  satisfied  with  cloth- 
ing its  arguments  in  figurative  language.  The 
more  he  thinks  it  over  and  studies  the  problem 


236    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

of  economy  in  railroad  work,  the  less  he  cares  for 
the  overtures  of  the  scientific  engineer.  Of  course 
it  is  too  bad,  and  science  and  eflSciency  are  sur- 
prised, almost  sorrowful,  when,  in  spite  of  all  its 
plans  and  promises,  labor  remarks  as  Hamlet  did 
to  Ophelia,  "I  love  you  not,"  and  the  response 
in  both  cases  is,  "I  was  the  more  deceived." 
Be  this  as  it  may,  the  employe  on  the  railroad 
to-day  has  also  a  solid  background  of  business 
advantage  already  secured  which,  in  its  present 
stage,  the  public  may  not  exactly  like,  but  never- 
theless, the  illustration  I  am  about  to  give  you 
will  at  least  demonstrate  the  practical  and  finan- 
cial reasons  why  the  railroad  man  interposes  ob- 
jections to  scientific  treatment. 

For  instance,  some  time  ago  I  myself  was 
called  upon  to  work  just  one  hour  and  a  half  be- 
fore my  regular  time  to  appear  on  the  job  — 
I  got  an  extra  day's  pay  for  this  hour  and  a  half. 
The  schedule  arranges  this.  Is  there  any  likeli- 
hood that  scientific  management  will  treat  me 
any  better.'*  Again,  I  have  in  mind  a  certain  train 
crew  that  works  in  a  locality  where  there  is 
switching  to  be  done  all  day  long  between  widely 
separated  side  tracks  and  industrial  plants.  Two 
or  three  times  a  week,  on  an  average,  this  crew 
are  called  upon  to  drop  their  work  and  take  a 
little  trip  a  mile  or  two  away  from  their  regular 
stamping  ground.   When  this  happens  they  get 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS        237 

an  extra  day's  pay  for  the  work,  although  it 
comes  easily  within  the  time  of  the  stipulated 
day's  work. 

The  railroad  business  is  honeycombed  with 
illustrations  of  this  nature  going  to  show  that  the 
railroad  man's  schedule  has  scientific  manage- 
ment beaten  out  of  sight  —  considered  as  a  finan- 
cial attraction  to  the  railroad  man. 

Just  a  word  or  two  about  the  manager's  side  of 
the  problem.  In  answering  the  call  of  the  ef- 
ficiency engineer  to  apply  scientific  methods  to 
railroad  work,  the  very  first  consideration  in  the 
mind  of  the  manager  is  the  employe.  To  tell  the 
truth,  the  railroad  man  is  a  proposition  the  rail- 
road manager  cannot  dodge.  The  position  and 
prospects  of  the  railroad  men  were  voiced  very 
distinctly  at  a  mass  meeting  of  emploj^es  held  in 
Boston  some  time  ago.  The  remarks  of  one  of 
the  principal  speakers  were  as  follows :  — 

"It  is  the  combined  labor  of  thousands  and 
thousands  of  workers  that  makes  it  possible  to 
run  a  railroad.  We  stand  on  the  industrial  battle- 
field with  nothing  but  our  labor  to  sell,  and  we 
must  have  organization  to  say  what  pay  we  shall 
receive  and  what  conditions  we  will  work  under. 

*'It  is  my  contention,"  the  speaker  continued, 
"that  we  must  reach  the  stage  sometime  when 
every  one  employed  on  a  railroad  will  belong  to  a 
union,  and  all  the  unions  to  one  federation  or 


238    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

brotherhood  of  railroad  employes.  When  that 
day  comes  we  will  not  need  the  injunction  nor 
fear  it.  We  can  call  out  every  man  on  the  rail- 
road unless  our  just  demands  are  granted." 

In  applying  industrial  efficiency  to  the  rail- 
roads this  efficiency  engineer  has  an  awful  job  on 
his  hands.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  his  principal 
opponents  are  the  railroad  managers  and  the  rail- 
road men.  The  manager's  position  is  easily  under- 
stood. For  the  manager  on  the  railroad  is  the  ex- 
pediency engineer.  All  problems  and  issues  are 
in  his  pigeon  holes.  Of  all  things  he,  too,  desires 
efficiency  of  service  and  so  far  as  possible  the  ap- 
plication of  scientific  principles.  But  as  a  matter 
of  fact  his  desires  and  opinions  in  this  particular 
matter  cut  very  little  figure.  Amidst  all  the 
babel  of  divers  scientific  propaganda  and  the  no 
less  insistent  demands  and  threats  of  organized 
labor,  he  is  called  upon  to  hold  the  reins  in  the 
interests  of  the  whole  people.  Out  of  a  caldron 
of  industrial  and  political  interests  and  factions 
on  the  railroad  he  must  pluck  by  hook  or  by 
crook,  in  some  way,  the  flower  of  satisfactory 
service. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  multiply  illustrations 
showing  the  all-around  benefits  to  be  derived 
from  the  application  of  scientific  principles  to 
railroad  work.  Only  give  the  efficiency  engineer 
and  the  scientific  manager  half  a  chance  and  they 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS        239 

will  simply  overwhelm  you  with  facts  and  figures, 
the  truth  and  practical  utility  of  which  no  man 
in  his  senses  will  attempt  to  gainsay.  But  un- 
fortunately for  the  application  of  scientific  prin- 
ciples to  railroad  work,  the  problem  at  the  present 
day,  as  I  think  I  have  demonstrated,  is  sur- 
rounded by  an  industrial  situation  to  which,  as  I 
look  at  it,  all  other  issues  are  just  now  subordin- 
ate. In  other  words,  the  real  problem  for  the 
manager  to-day  is  not  how  to  run  his  business 
upon  the  most  economical  and  scientific  prin- 
ciples, but  actually  and  practically  how  to  run  it 
at  all. 

in 

But  there  are  political  as  well  as  industrial  com- 
plications in  this  riddle  of  the  railroads.  Just  how 
the  politicians  go  to  work  in  such  matters  would 
be  rather  amusing  if  the  methods  pursued  were 
not  so  peculiar.  I  have  in  mind  a  legislative  ses- 
sion in  Texas  a  few  years  ago,  when  the  railroads 
were  quietly  informed  by  the  politicians  that 
their  constituents  would  require  them  to  show 
results  in  the  form  of  anti-railroad  legislation. 
That  was  all  there  was  to  it.  What  followed  was 
simply  a  surgical  operation  performed  on  the 
railroad  with  the  politician  as  the  "sawbones." 
No  specific  shortcomings  on  the  part  of  the  rail- 
road were  even  hinted  at.   On  the  part  of  public 


240    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

opinion  it  was  simply  an  appetite ;  on  the  part  of 
the  politician  it  was  simply  a  job. 

An  up-to-date  illustration  will  enable  us  to  un- 
derstand something  about  this  politically  influ- 
enced public  opinion  and  its  unfair  treatment  of 
railroad  management  and  railroad  employes. 
On  August  8  of  the  present  year,  a  passenger  train 
on  the  New  York,  New  Haven  and  Hartford 
Railroad  was  derailed  near  the  Crescent  Avenue 
Station,  South  Boston.  Seven  persons  were 
killed  and  fifty-four  were  injured.  The  train  was 
running  about  thirty-five  miles  an  hour  when  the 
engine  jumped  the  track,  and,  after  bumping 
along  the  ties  for  a  short  distance,  shot  over  the 
edge  of  a  ten-foot  embankment.  The  three  pass- 
enger cars  followed  the  engine.  It  was  impossi- 
ble at  the  time,  at  any  rate,  to  account  for  the 
derailment  of  this  train.  Henry  W.  Seward,  the 
state  railroad  inspector,  visited  and  examined  the 
premises,  and  forthwith,  according  to  reports  in 
the  newspapers,  volunteered  the  following  state- 
ment: "I  arrived  at  the  scene  of  the  wreck  at  1.15 
this  afternoon.  I  looked  for  something  that  might 
have  dropped,  but  found  nothing.  The  roadbed 
seemed  all  right.  The  engine  is  a  heap  of  scrap 
and  I  cannot  tell  the  cause  until  that  is  re- 
moved. I  do  not  think  the  speed  could  have 
caused  the  derailment.  I  should  say  that  sixty 
miles  an  hour  would  not  have  been  excessive 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS        241 

speed,  as  the  rails  are  heavy.  We  shall  make  a 
careful  investigation  and  report  the  cause  when 
ascertained.  I  could  not  even  guess  the  cause  at 
present." 

The  division  superintendent,  F.  S.  Hobbs,  said 
with  reference  to  the  derailment:  "Something 
may  have  dropped.  The  train  was  on  time.  We 
are  not  limited  as  to  speed,  and  forty  miles  is  not 
excessive.  The  cause  is  not  known  and  will  not 
be  known  until  I  have  heard  the  experts  and  ex- 
amined the  evidence.  To-morrow  at  ten  in  the 
morning  I  will  have  a  hearing  on  the  cause  of  the 
wreck." 

These  reports  are,  under  the  circumstances, 
both  reasonable  and  businesslike.  But  the  de- 
railment and  its  cause  which  was  so  puzzling  to 
experienced  Government  inspectors  and  railroad 
men  was  no  mystery  at  all  to  Boston  politicians. 
The  Mayor  of  Boston,  for  example,  was  quoted 
in  the  newspapers  word  for  word  as  follows: 
"From  the  condition  of  the  rails  and  roadbed,  the 
thing  looks  almost  criminal.  If  anybody  was  sup- 
posed to  inspect  this  place  and  allowed  this  state 
of  affairs  to  exist,  something  should  be  done.  If 
there  is  no  official  inspection,  the  sooner  a  law  is 
passed  compelling  one,  the  better  for  all  con- 
cerned. To  me  the  track  looked  as  if  it  had  not 
been  properly  built.  I  was  glad  the  police,  under 
Chief  Inspector   McGarr,   started   immediately 


242    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

after  the  accident  to  make  a  thorough  investiga- 
tion. To  them  I  pointed  out  that  it  looked  as  if 
the  foundations  holding  the  sleepers  were  not  as 
strong  as  they  should  be.  It  was  a  bad-looking 
piece  of  track,  with  the  gravel  loosely  thrown 
against  the  ties.  I  asked  the  police  inspectors  to 
notice  that  fact  and  they  did  so,  and  had  photo- 
graphs made.  I  believe  it  is  high  time  that  a 
more  rigid  inspection  be  made  regularly  of  the 
condition  of  the  tracks  of  all  the  railroads  through- 
out the  state.  The  lives  of  the  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  people  who  daily  ride  on  the  railroads 
of  the  country  must  be  protected." 

Then  again  the  Medical  Examiner  who  per- 
formed an  autopsy  on  the  bodies  of  the  victims 
was  quoted  by  the  reporters,  as  follows:  "We 
found  nothing  to  indicate  that  there  was  any- 
thing wrong  with  the  engine,  the  brakes,  or  the 
equipment,  but,  in  my  opinion,  the  train  was 
running  at  a  high  rate  of  speed  and  took  the  curve 
too  fast."  He  probably  arrived  at  this  conclusion 
from  a  scrutiny  of  the  wreckage. 

Hard  on  the  heels  of  the  fast-running  theory  of 
the  Medical  Examiner  came  additional  light  on 
the  matter  from  the  manager  of  the  Boston  Fire 
Patrol.  He  disagreed  with  the  Mayor  and  the 
Medical  Examiner.  In  his  opinion,  "the  eleva- 
tion of  the  rails  on  the  curve  was  faulty."  He  was 
able  to  detect  this  fact  at  a  glance.  The  railroad 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAH^ROADS        213 

engineers  and  trackmen,  on  the  other  hand,  are 
not  gifted  in  this  way.  The  actual  measurements, 
made  by  these  men,  tell  a  different  story. 

Meanwhile,  under  such  a  hail  of  criticism  from 
the  lips  of  the  ignorant  yet  highly  responsible 
men,  it  is  little  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  public 
acquires  erroneous  ideas  about  roadbeds,  about 
the  employes  who  build  them,  and  the  officials 
who  supervise  the  work.  Public  opinion,  it  is 
true,  should  have  a  say  in  the  matter,  but  all  poli- 
tical and  semi-political  attempts  to  misinform 
the  public  in  regard  to  these  railroad  accidents, 
before  they  have  been  properly  and  officially  in- 
vestigated, should  be  outspokenly  condemned  by 
right-thinking  people.  Notoriety  acquired  in  this 
way,  at  the  expense  of  roadmasters  and  section- 
men,  is  of  the  cheapest  description.  For,  after  all, 
it  must  be  remembered  that  these  roadbeds  and 
tracks  are  in  charge  of  section  foremen  who  in- 
spect them  daily  and  are  responsible  for  their 
condition.  It  will  take  a  wiser  man  than  the  aver- 
age politician  to  tell  these  foremen  anything  they 
do  not  already  know  about  their  sections  or  their 
business.  The  condition,  position,  and  length  of 
service  of  every  rail  and  tie  on  this  section  is 
known  to  this  foreman.  There  are  at  least  four 
hundred  thousand  section  workers,  and  over 
forty-five  thousand  section  foremen  on  American 
railroads  to-day.   These  men  are  just  as  jealous 


244    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

of  their  good  names  and  of  the  reputation  of  their 
work,  and  a  Httle  more  so,  I  think,  than  any  other 
body  of  workers  in  the  country.  They  certainly 
deserve  more  appreciation  than  the  average,  and 
receive  a  good  deal  less.  Not  only  is  this  true, 
but,  in  my  opinion,  this  track-work  which  I  am 
now  discussing  is  probably  the  very  strongest  and 
best  feature  in  all  the  realm  of  railroad  labor  at 
the  present  day,  and  the  impressions  on  the  sub- 
ject, expressed  and  published  in  the  daily  press, 
by  politicians  and  others  at  the  time  of  the  late 
accident  on  the  New  Haven  Railroad,  were,  in 
my  opinion,  very  unfair  to  the  workers  who  had 
charge  of  these  roadbeds.  The  track-service,  at 
any  rate,  is  not  yet  vitiated  by  political  influence, 
undermined  altogether  by  the  seniority  rule,  nor 
stupefied  by  the  "bumping  process." 

Just  at  this  time  it  will  be  well  for  the  public  to 
read  a  little  about  the  duties  and  responsibil- 
ities of  these  track- workers.  Man  for  man  they 
actually  do  twice  as  much  work,  both  with  head 
and  hand,  as  engine  men  or  trainmen,  and  they  re- 
ceive only  a  fraction  as  much  pay  or  appreciation. 
The  section  foreman  is,  to  begin  with,  timekeeper 
for  himself  and  his  men.  He  is  responsible  for  the 
safety  of  tracks,  switches,  waterways,  crossings, 
and  in  many  cases  for  switch  and  semaphore 
lamps  on  his  section.  He  is  responsible  for  track 
repairs  and  for  emergency  repairs  to  telegraph 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RMLROADS        2i5 

lines,  bridges,  and  culverts,  signals  and  interlock- 
ing; for  the  safe  conduct  of  his  men  and  car  over 
main  tracks  without  any  safeguard  in  the  way  of 
train  orders.  He  must  know  the  time  of  arrival 
and  departure  of  all  regular  trains  and  whether 
or  not  they  are  running  late,  timing  his  work  ac- 
cordingly. He  must  be  as  familiar  with  the  flag- 
ging rules  as  are  the  trainmen  and  enginemen.  He 
must  effectively  police  the  company's  property 
against  all  acts  of  trespass  and  vandalism  without 
any  real  police  power.  He  is  responsible  for  the 
proper  care  and  appearance  of  the  permanent  way 
and  the  fences  inclosing  it.  He  must  deal,  as  the 
company's  representative,  with  adjacent  pro- 
perty owners.  He  has  more  than  a  hundred  other 
duties  to  be  found  in  detail  in  the  rule  books. 

The  work  of  the  ordinary  section-hand  is  not  a 
bit  less  honorable  or  painstaking.  I  have  in  mind 
a  typical  illustration.  This  man's  first  job  in 
the  morning  and  the  last  at  night  was  track-walk- 
ing. During  many  years  of  my  service  in  the 
switch  tower,  he  was  a  frequent  visitor  during 
the  night-time.  It  must  not  be  supposed  that  he 
was  called  out  or  paid  overtime  for  this  service. 
The  fact  is  he  worked  instinctively  and  the  job 
was  on  his  mind.  The  pattering  of  the  rain  or  the 
falling  of  the  snowflake  was  all  the  calling  he  re- 
ceived. In  such  cases  he  got  up,  came  down  to 
the  tower,  put  his  head  in  at  the  door,  and  simply 


246    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

said  to  the  towerman,  "How's  everything?" 
And  then,  if  it  happened  to  be  towards  morning, 
he  would  take  his  shovel  or  his  wrench,  according 
to  the  weather,  and  sally  out  on  his  usual  tour  of 
inspection. 

The  track-walker  on  a  railroad  is  the  eye  of 
the  foreman.  It  is  a  position  of  the  greatest  re- 
sponsibility. The  man  must  be  posted  on  the 
time-table  and  the  book  of  rules.  As  he  walks 
along  he  is  on  the  lookout  for  fires  of  every  de- 
scription. His  business  is  to  hunt  up,  and  recog- 
nize, at  once,  a  dangerous  condition  of  track  or 
roadbed.  He  carefully  scrutinizes  rails,  switches, 
and  frogs  for  breaks,  or  even  indication  of  flaws. 
As  he  proceeds,  he  tightens  a  bolt  at  one  place, 
knocks  in  a  spike  at  another,  or,  perhaps,  with 
his  shovel,  he  guides  a  stream  of  water  away  from 
the  tracks  and  into  its  proper  channel.  At  the 
same  time  his  eye  and  mind  have  business  to  at- 
tend to  aloft  and  on  every  side.  He  must  take 
note  of  the  working  condition  of  signals  and  in- 
dicators on  his  section.  There  are  also  a  score  of 
posts  and  sign-boards,  every  one  of  which  has  a 
mission  of  safety  or  warning.  Above  all,  there  is 
the  "bridge  guard,"  a  matter  of  vital  importance 
to  trainmen.  This  gives  one  a  pretty  good  idea  of 
the  track-walker's  practical  value  to  the  railroad, 
and  to  the  community. 

Track-work  on  the  New  Haven  and  Boston 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS        247 

and  Maine  Railroads,  so  far  as  my  experience,  in- 
vestigation, and  knowledge  goes,  is  done  on  honor. 
This  is  the  kind  of  service  that  the  public  and  the 
railroad  corporations  are  getting  from  the  men 
who  have  charge  of  and  do  the  work  on  these 
roadbeds.  In  criticizing  the  work  on  these  road- 
beds the  Mayor  of  Boston  calls  for  an  increase 
in  the  number  of  Government  inspectors.  In- 
spection is  all  very  well  but  it  does  not  go  to  the 
root  of  the  problem.  In  my  opinion,  the  probable 
cause  of  the  derailment  of  the  train  at  South  Bos- 
ton, and  of  many  other  mysterious  fatalities  that 
occur  at  intervals  all  over  the  country  is  of  a  dif- 
ferent nature  altogether,  and  only  a  short  time 
ago  the  Mayor  of  Boston,  in  a  letter  addressed  to 
ministers  and  others  in  the  community,  called  at- 
tention, in  a  very  specific  manner,  to  the  real 
issue.   The  letter  to  which  I  refer  is  as  follows :  — 

"Reverend  Dear  Sir,  —  Complaints  of  dis- 
orderly conduct  on  the  part  of  young  boys  from 
twelve  to  eighteen  years  of  age  are  constantly  re- 
ceived at  this  office.  Some  of  the  playgrounds  of 
the  city  have  proved  to  be  detriments  rather 
than  blessings,  particularly  at  night,  to  the  dis- 
tricts in  which  they  are  situated  on  account  of  the 
opportunities  they  afford  as  gathering-places 
for  youthful  mischief-makers.  The  police  seem 
to  be  unable  to  cope  with  this  evil,  which  is  so 


248    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

pervasive  and  insidious  that  it  appears  to  be  the 
symptom  of  some  general  condition  or  disease. 
I  am  reluctant,  however,  to  believe  that  the 
youths  of  this  generation,  so  attractive  in  other 
respects,  are  less  amenable  to  discipline  than 
their  fathers  were.  I  should  suppose  that  if  the 
cause  of  these  disorders  could  be  ascertained  it 
would  be  easy  to  apply  a  remedy.  Among  the 
causes  that  are  commonly  given  is  the  weakening 
of  parental  authority  and  the  consequent  spirit 
of  irreverence,  manifestations  of  which  are  only 
too  commonly  observed.  May  I  suggest  that  this 
phase  of  the  subject  might  be  appropriately 
treated  in  one  of  your  Sunday  discourses,  so  that 
the  parents  of  these  young  people  may  be  awak- 
ened to  a  sense  of  their  responsibilities.  I  am  sure 
the  public  would  regard  this  as  a  proper  exercise 
of  your  spiritual  authority  and  service  to  the 
community. 

Yours  respectfully, 

John  F.  Fitzgerald,  Mayor." 

Now  the  interests  of  the  traveling  public  de- 
mand that  this  matter  should  be  handled  without 
gloves.  In  his  letter  the  Mayor  of  Boston  informs 
us  that  the  police  are  unable  to  cope  with  this 
problem  of  lawless  behavior.  My  personal  expe- 
rience and  knowledge,  however,  so  far  as  rail- 
roads   and    railroad    property   are    concerned. 


THE  RroDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS        249 

prompt  me  to  assert  that  turning  the  difficulty 
over  to  the  churches  to  wrestle  with  is  simply  a 
method  of  avoiding  political  responsibility. 

For  many  years  I  have  watched  and  studied 
the  behavior  of  these  gangs  of  hoodlums  and 
other  trespassers  on  railroad  property.  On  the 
Fitchburg  division  of  the  Boston  and  Maine  Rail- 
road, for  example,  the  tracks  between  Waltham 
and  Boston,  especially  on  Sunday  and  holidays, 
are  a  public  thoroughfare.  During  the  summer 
months  the  trains  bring  these  trespassers  out 
from  the  city  in  squads,  and  they  no  sooner  get 
off  at  a  station  than  they  begin  their  skylarking. 
It  is  impossible  for  the  railroad  police,  single- 
handed,  to  cover  the  territory.  They  need  the 
assistance  of  public  opinion  and  the  civil  author- 
ities, and  they  do  not  get  it.  When  the  railroad 
people  and  the  authorities  fail  to  account  for  the 
derailment  of  a  train,  it  is  safe  to  say  these  tres- 
passers know  something  about  it. 

During  many  years  of  service  on  the  railroads 
I  have  been  aware  of  the  mischief -making  of  these 
hoodlums,  smashing  signal  and  switch  lamps  and 
twisting  the  signal  wires,  causing  false  indications 
of  semaphores.  But  they  do  not  content  them- 
selves with  throwing  stones  and  twisting  wires; 
they  also  place  obstructions  of  every  conceivable 
description  in  the  frogs  and  on  the  rails.  Time  was 
when  sectionmen  and  others  made  efforts  to  warn 


250    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST  ^ 

these  trespassers,  and,  when  possible,  to  head 
them  off.  We  know  better  now.  All  kinds  of 
"scraps"  arose  in  this  way,  on  and  off  the  rail- 
road tracks,  and  after  one  or  two  instances  when 
sectionmen  were  fined  in  the  police  courts  for 
assault,  and  permitted  to  pay  the  fine  out  of 
their  slender  wages,  a  general  policy  of  "hands 
off"  was  adopted. 

If  this  state  of  affairs  does  not  point  specific- 
ally to  the  derailment  of  the  passenger  train  at 
South  Boston,  it  certainly  does  to  scores  of  other 
happenings  of  a  similar  nature  all  over  the  coun- 
try. The  facts  in  the  case,  as  I  have  described 
them,  are  written  in  the  records  of  every  railroad 
in  the  country.  The  railroad  authorities  are  con- 
tinually investigating  such  cases.  And  this  is  the 
situation,  and  these  are  the  conditions  which 
Mayor  Fitzgerald  invites  the  churches  to  rectify. 

But  the  dangerous  hoodlum  is  only  one  phase 
of  the  trespass  situation  in  the  riddle  of  the  rail- 
roads. Trespassing  on  railroad  property  is  a 
national  affair  of  tremendous  importance.  A 
disaster  like  that  to  the  steamship  Titanic  very 
naturally  gives  rise  to  widespread  sorrow  and 
indignation.  And  yet  this  is  just  what  is  happen- 
ing on  the  railroads,  in  the  aggregate  of  fatalities, 
every  two  or  three  months,  year  in  and  year  out, 
by  reason  of  trespassing.  The  railroads,  in  one 
way  and  another,  are  doing  what  they  can  to 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS        251 

direct  the  attention  of  the  general  public  to  this 
matter,  but  if  the  present  type  of  politician  is  to 
be  left  alone  to  handle  the  business,  the  prospect 
for  betterment  is  not  very  bright. 

A  report  on  the  general  subject  of  trespassing 
has  recently  been  issued  by  the  Pennsylvania 
Railroad  Company.  Its  police  department,  dur- 
ing the  year  1911,  spent  more  than  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars  in  its  campaign  against  tres- 
passing, or  nearly  one  fifth  of  the  total  cost  of 
maintaining  the  company's  force.  In  the  efforts 
of  the  company's  agents  to  enlighten  the  public 
on  this  subject  and  to  enlist  the  interest  of  magis- 
trates and  other  local  officers,  attention  is  being 
given  more  especially  to  these  trespassers  who  are 
not  to  be  classed  as  tramps  —  well-meaning  peo- 
ple who  use  the  railway  tracks  as  thoroughfares. 
In  this  statement  on  this  subject  which  has  been 
given  out  by  the  company,  it  is  said  that  on 
American  railways  in  the  fiscal  year  ending  June 
30,  1911,  the  number  of  trespassers  killed  was 
5,284  and  the  number  injured  was  5,614.  In 
fact,  there  are  more  people  killed  in  this  way  on 
the  railroads  than  from  all  other  causes  com- 
bined. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  American  Railway  Asso- 
ciation, held  in  New  York  City,  May  15,  1912,  the 
following  resolution  was  unanimously  adopted: 
"That  the  executive   committee  of  this  Asso- 


252    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

ciation  is  hereby  requested  to  confer  directly 
with  the  proper  authorities  of  the  National  Gov- 
ernment, with  a  view  to  determine  what  steps 
can  and  should  be  taken  to  educate  the  public 
regarding  the  danger  and  results  of  trespassing 
on  railroad  property  and  regarding  the  steps, 
whether  in  the  form  of  legislation  or  otherwise, 
that  should  be  taken  to  stop  this  practice,  which 
in  ten  years  ending  January  30,  1911,  cost  the 
lives  of  50,708  people  in  the  United  States." 

The  following  table  gives  one  a  good  idea  of 
the  frequency  of  unexplained  derailments  of 
trains  compared  with  derailments  from  all  other 
causes.  It  is  an  official  report  of  the  most  notable 
train  derailments  that  occurred  on  the  railways 
of  the  United  States  for  the  month  of  August, 
1912.   Unx.  signifies  unexplained. 


DERAILMENTS 

CAUSE    OP 

KIND    0» 

DATE             BOAD 

PLACE 

DEBAILMENT 

TBAIN 

KILLED 

INJCBED 

4 

Rutland 

Bangor,  N.  Y. 

Unx. 

P. 

0 

U 

7 

Vir^tinia  &  S.  W. 

St.  Charles 

Unx. 

F. 

3 

0 

8 

N.Y.N.H.&H. 

Dorchester 

Unx. 

P. 

7 

64 

9 

Mobile  &  0. 

Sparta,  III. 

B.  rail 

P. 

0 

35 

10 

St.  Louis  &  S.  F. 

Rogers,  Ark. 

Unx. 

P. 

1 

6 

12 

C.  M.  &  Paget  S. 

Keechelus 

Unx. 

P. 

5 

5 

17 

Penn. 

Middle  Pt. 

Unx. 

P. 

0 

7 

18 

Acth.  T.  &  S.  F. 

Osage  City 

D.  switch 

P. 

0 

17 

19 

Southern 

Lenoir  City 

Unx. 

P. 

0 

1 

19 

Boston  &  Maine 

Lakeport 

Unx. 

P. 

0 

2 

19 

Texas  &  Pacific 

Mineola 

B.  rail 

P. 

0 

2 

21 

Yazoo  &  M.  V. 

Roxie 

Unx. 

P. 

0 

5 

25 

Gin.  H.  &  D. 

Antioch 

Unx. 

P. 

1 

15 

30 

Mo.  Kan.  &  Tex. 

Temple,  Tex. 

Unx. 

P. 

1 

17 

30 

Penn. 

Conway 

Ace.  obst. 

P. 

Totals 

5 
23 

19 
199 

THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  RAILROADS        253 

In  my  opinion,  the  trespasser  on  railroad  pro- 
perty hangs,  Hke  a  shadow,  over  these  unex- 
plained accidents. 

Finally,  in  summing  up  the  situation  on  rail- 
roads, if  the  public  would  like  to  know  how  long 
private  money,  on  the  one  hand,  and  industrial 
and  political  foolery,  on  the  other,  are  likely, 
under  these  conditions,  to  continue  in  partner- 
ship, all  they  have  to  do  is  to  study  this  riddle  of 
progress  on  American  railroads.  The  people  will 
certainly  get  an  answer  to  the  riddle  before  long. 
In  the  mythological  story  the  solving  of  the  riddle 
entailed  the  death  of  the  Sphinx.  From  present 
indications  the  American  railroads  may  reason- 
ably expect  a  similar  fate.  If  public  opinion  is 
willing  simply  to  look  on  while  all  these  different 
forces  are  fighting  for  their  own  ideas  and  prin- 
ciples, at  the  expense  of  the  Government  and 
efficiency  of  the  railroad  business,  the  answer  to 
the  riddle  of  the  railroads  will  be  —  national 
ownership.  In  the  opinion  of  some  of  us,  perhaps 
of  most  of  us,  this  last  state  will  be  worse  than 
the  first.  To  tell  the  truth.  Government  owner- 
ship of  railroads  is  to  be  opposed,  not  so  much 
for  the  effect  it  would  have  on  the  railroads,  but 
on  account  of  the  results  to  the  Government  and 
to  the  nation.  There  is  much  less  danger,  how- 
ever, that  the  general  public  will  demand  public 
ownership  of  railroads  and  the  taking  of  railroad 


254    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

property  by  the  Federal  Government  than  there 
is  that  the  representatives  and  large  owners  of 
railroad  property  will  become  tired  of  annoyance, 
interference,  political  tyranny,  and  over-regula- 
tion of  profits,  and  that  they  will  play  into  the 
hands  of  the  Government  and  themselves  seek  to 
bring  it  about. 

Standing  on  one  side,  as  it  were,  without  any 
political  or  industrial  affiliations  to  interfere  with 
my  diagnosis,  I  have  attempted  to  describe  in  the 
foregoing  chapters  some  of  the  problems  in  the 
present  riddle  of  affairs  on  American  railroads. 


IX 

LET  INDUSTRY  BE  FREE 


It  has  been  well  said  that  there  is  no  other  way 
of  accomplishing  things  than  by  work,  whether  it 
takes  the  form  of  intellectual  activity  or  manual 
toil.  The  man  to  be  pitied  is  the  idler.  The  person 
who  has  work  to  do  and  does  it  is  to  be  envied. 
The  idler  gets  what  is  coming  to  him  —  and  that 
is  nothing.  The  United  States  of  America  stands 
for  individual  effort  and  self-reliance.  This  is 
particularly  true  of  New  England.  It  would  be  an 
unfortunate  thing  for  us  if  we  all  became  merged 
into  one  mammoth  society  with  individualism 
suppressed  and  personal  initiative  and  effort  dis- 
couraged. This  might  be  socialism,  but  it  would 
not  be  individual  happiness.  It  is  much  better  to 
preach  the  doctrine  of  the  necessity  of  labor  for 
the  attainment  of  happiness  and  for  the  securing 
of  contentment.  These  opinions  and  sentiments 
constitute,  in  a  wide  sense,  the  doctrine  of  indi- 
vidualism in  modern  society  and  in  the  mind  of 
the  individualist  next  to  labor  itself  comes  the 


256    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

problem  of  opportunity  to  be  useful,  in  this  way, 
to  one's  self  and  to  the  community. 

Industry,  however,  is  a  matter  of  capital  as  well 
as  of  labor.  Capital,  as  well  as  labor,  is  useful  and 
necessary.  As  it  seems  to  me,  it  is  difficult  to  over- 
estimate the  debt  of  the  nation  to  the  far-seeing 
policy  of  some  of  its  capitalists.  It  is  not  a  very 
popular  topic,  but  it  has  its  educational  features, 
and  from  the  standpoint  of  the  individualist  it  is 
worth  considering.  I  propose  to  say  a  few  words 
on  the  subject  from  an  unusual  point  of  view. 

Certainly  one  of  the  most  astonishing  features 
of  modern  civilization  is  the  influence,  both  for 
good  and  evil,  of  the  ordinary  axiom,  which,  under 
our  present  strenuous  conditions  is  permitted  only 
too  often  to  degenerate  into  a  mere  catch-phrase. 
An  axiom,  of  course,  is  a  self-evident  truth,  which 
is  taken  for  granted  as  the  basis  of  reasoning. 
Nowadays  as  soon  as  one  of  these  high  sounding 
catch-phrases  succeeds  in  arresting  attention  and 
establishing  itself  in  popular  favor,  it  at  once  pro- 
ceeds to  dominate  the  situation.  In  social  and 
industrial  matters  nowadays,  nearly  all  problems 
are  submitted  to  the  test  of  these  popular  catch- 
phrases.  If  the  progress  in  connection  with  these 
problems  is  in  line  with  and  recognizes  the  truth 
of  the  catch-phrase  the  situation  is  supposed  to  be 
sound,  otherwise,  it  is  considered  with  the  great- 
est suspicion,  Perhaps  the  most  overworked  of  all 


LET  INDUSTRY  BE  FREE  257 

the  catch-phrases  that  are  now  being  exploited  by 
public  opinion  is  the  term  a  "public  utility."  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  difficult  for  the  everyday, 
unprejudiced  mind  to  distinguish  between  a  rail- 
road, a  politician,  and  a  potato,  so  far  as  their 
public  utility  is  concerned.  They  all  seem  to  be 
equally  indispensable.  Connected  with  them  all, 
with  the  potato,  the  politician,  and  the  railroad 
business,  there  are  certain  public  interests  which 
it  becomes  the  duty  of  the  National  Government 
to  care  for  and  regulate.  It  stands  to  reason  if,  in 
the  past,  the  government  of  a  city  or  a  state  has 
looked  upon  a  franchise  or  a  monopoly  as  a  gift,  it 
has  been  sadly  lacking  in  business  acumen  in  giv- 
ing them  away.  But,  in  fact,  there  were  nearly 
always  enormous  financial  risks  which,  in  the 
building  and  organizing  stage,  the  givers  of  the 
franchise  were  afraid  to  shoulder.  Once  on  a  pay- 
ing basis,  however,  the  franchise  is  called  upon  to 
develop  in  a  different  atmosphere. 

Let  us  take  an  illustration  from  the  state  of 
Oklahoma.  Not  so  long  ago  the  territory  was  a 
comparative  wilderness,  but  in  the  end  its  oppor- 
tunity and  time  came.  Of  course  the  first  appeal 
of  a  rising  and  energetic  community  is  for  capital 
to  start  and  develop  its  industries  and  for  rail- 
roads for  transportation  purposes.  Only  a  year  or 
two  ago  there  were  several  towns  in  Oklahoma 
which  were  offering  from  forty  to  fifty  thousand 


258    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

dollars  to  secure  railroads  from  fifty  to  one  hun- 
dred miles  in  length.  People  somehow  and  some- 
where must  actually  have  put  their  hands  in  their 
pockets  to  provide  these  facilities.  So  far  as  pro- 
viding the  money  and  taking  the  risks  connected 
with  it  were  concerned,  this  financial  opportunity 
in  Oklahoma  was  open  to  all  the  world.  So  people 
of  enterprise  and  courage,  people  of  small  means 
and  large  resources,  came  forward  with  the  funds 
and  put  the  young  state  on  its  feet.  These  pri- 
vately owned  railroads  in  Oklahoma  were  made 
possible  by  the  efforts  and  good-will  of  men  and 
women  who  had  faith  in  Oklahoma,  and  to  these 
people,  in  a  large  measure,  Oklahoma  owes  her 
present  prosperity.  Borrowing  the  language  of  a 
writer  who  has  studied  the  situation  at  first  hand 
and  on  the  spot,  these  privately  built  lines  "car- 
ried the  raw  material,  the  men  and  the  capital  to 
establish  a  territory  which  has,  through  these 
same  agencies,  blossomed  into  a  flourishing  com- 
monwealth, in  which  the  whistle  of  the  locomotive 
has  supplanted  the  howl  of  the  coyote,  and  pros- 
perous cities,  towns,  and  farms  have  banished  the 
loneliness  of  the  once  desolate  prairies." 

But  now  during  the  construction  periods  in 
Oklahoma  and  elsewhere,  the  radical  reformer, 
the  political  demagogue,  and  the  man  with  the 
socialistic  ache,  were  not,  to  any  extent,  in  evi- 
dence.  The  popular  slogan  was  railroads  at  any 


LET  INDUSTRY  BE  FREE  259 

price,  and  popular  enthusiasm  always  leaves 
debts  and  obligations  in  its  rear.  The  people  who 
were  calling  for  railroads  in  those  days,  regardless 
of  obstacles  and  expense,  spent  very  little  time  in 
trying  to  arrive  at  a  philosophical  interpretation 
of  a  "public  utility,"  and  they  troubled  them- 
selves still  less  about  the  economical  anatomy  of 
"special  privileges."  The  railroad  of  the  past, 
with  all  its  sins,  was  the  product  of  this  state  of 
public  sentiment  on  the  subject.  But  with  the 
advent  of  prosperity  and  of  a  population  which 
took  no  part  in  the  original  risks,  or  shared  in  the 
original  expenditure,  the  situation  in  Oklahoma, 
and  elsewhere,  has  changed.  With  the  assistance 
of  these  people,  public  opinion  in  Oklahoma,  for 
example,  is  preparing  to  repudiate  its  original 
bargain.  It  now  complacently  awakens  to  the 
fact  that  a  railroad  is  a  "public  utility,"  to  which 
are  attached  all  sorts  of  "special  privileges," 
which  those  who  built  the  railroads  are  now  actu- 
ally turning  into  dollars  and  cents  to  the  tune,  in 
some  cases,  of  from  four  to  sLx  per  cent  on  their 
cash  investments.  This,  of  course,  will  never  do. 
The  railroads  have  been  secured  and  prosperity 
has  followed  them,  and  the  problem  now  is  to  de- 
fine a  "public  utility"  in  terms  that  will  enable 
the  politician  to  uproot  most  of  the  special  priv- 
ileges connected  with  them. 

Again,  we  frequently  hear  the  term  "water" 


260    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

applied  to  railroads  or  railroad  stock.  To  hear 
some  people  talk,  one  would  think  it  only  on  a 
railroad  where  this  kind  of  financial  liquid  is  to  be 
found.  Generally  speaking,  of  course,  "water"  is 
a  fictitious  value  which  is  not  a  part  of  the  capital 
invested  in  the  railroad.  So  is  the  good- will  of  any 
business  for  that  matter.  It  is  up  to  the  purchaser 
to  guess  what  they  are  severally  worth.  An  eight 
P.M.  edition  of  a  newspaper  on  the  streets  at  noon, 
has  also  a  fictitious  value.  But,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  on  the  railroads  this  "water"  frequently 
means  more  money  for  people  outside  the  railroad 
than  within.  It  was  the  prospect  of  this  increased 
value,  that  is  to  say,  a  sort  of  good-will  that  was 
reflected  for  miles  around  every  railroad,  that 
made  the  building  of  most  railroads  possible. 

Ex-president  Roosevelt  says  in  one  of  his  edi- 
torials in  "The  Outlook":  "As  regards  these  big 
corporations  every  dollar  received  should  repre- 
sent a  dollar's  worth  of  service  rendered;  not 
gambling  in  stocks,  but  service  rendered." 

There  seems  to  be  only  one  side  to  this  philo- 
sophy. Two  dollars'  worth  of  service  for  one  dollar 
received  is  the  other  side  of  the  consideration. 
For  example,  the  advent  of  the  Kansas  City 
Southern  Railroad,  it  has  been  said,  enabled  fifty 
thousand  people  to  find  employment  in  mills, 
forests,  and  stores.  The  average  wage  of  these 
people  was  said  to  be  two  dollars  per  diem.  Here 


LET  INDUSTRY  BE  FREE  261 

is  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  a  day  increase  in 
the  earning  capacity  of  American  men.  I  am  not 
by  any  means  an  apologist  for  stock  gambling  of 
any  kind.  So  far  as  the  railroads  are  concerned 
"water"  has  had  its  day  and  its  uses. 

Another  familiar  catch-phrase  which  has  a  good 
deal  to  do  with  capital  and  labor  is  "Equality  of 
opportunity."  Some  time  ago  Ex-president 
Roosevelt,  in  an  editorial  in  "The  Outlook,"  took 
the  following  stand  on  the  subject:  — 

"We  take  the  view,"  he  wrote,  "that  our  gov- 
ernment is  intended  to  provide  equality  of  oppor- 
tunity for  all  men,  so  far  as  wise  human  action  can 
provide  it;  for  the  object  of  government  by  the 
people  is  the  welfare  of  the  people." 

To  begin  with,  this  declaration  of  Mr.  Roose- 
velt does  not  contain  a  suspicion  or  a  hint  of  the 
practical  difficulties  connected  with  it.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  opportunity  is  one  thing,  and  equality 
of  opportunity  is  a  different  affair  altogether. 
Opportunity  has,  at  all  times,  a  practical  working 
basis;  equality  of  opportunity  is  a  sort  of  political 
invention  that  has  the  effect,  if  not  the  design,  of 
educating  the  people  to  the  idea  that  equality  is  a 
fundamental  of  progress,  which  idea,  of  course, 
leads  to  all  sorts  of  schemes  for  the  mere  mechani- 
cal and  legislative  division  of  property.  For,  after 
all,  these  catch-phrases  must  not  be  taken  at  their 
face  meaning  or  value.  Practically  speaking,  they 


262    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

represent  the  significance  applied  to  them  by 
poHticians  for  political  purposes.  On  the  whole, 
then,  equality  of  opportunity  must  be  looked 
upon  as  a  slippery  and  a  dangerous  formula  which 
should,  at  all  times,  be  prescribed  with  extreme 
caution  and  hesitation.  In  the  political  life  of  the 
day  it  is  used  as  a  text  by  means  of  which  the 
people  are  being  notified  that  the  reformers  have 
discovered  a  new  principle  of  progress,  apart  from 
and  superior  to  the  clashing  of  inequalities,  which, 
in  matters  great  and  small,  is  cosmic  and  eternal. 
On  the  flimsy  and  unreal  foundation  of  this  popu- 
lar catch-phrase  all  sorts  of  social  and  industrial 
iniquities  are  creeping  into  the  body  politic,  such 
as  wholesale  interference  with  management  on 
railroads,  the  leveling  process  and  the  seniority 
rule,  and  in  general  all  sorts  of  spoliation  theories, 
aimed  by  politicians  indiscriminately  at  the  suc- 
cessful, the  industrious,  and  the  rich.  Correctly 
interpreted,  of  course,  equality  of  opportunity 
refers  to  educational,  political,  and  industrial 
facilities  and  privileges.  Applied  to  the  railroads 
it  simply,  and  properly,  means  that  the  corpora- 
tions of  the  country  should  be  so  regulated  as  to 
prevent  discrimination  or  injustice  to  the  public, 
giving  equal  and  fair  treatment  to  all,  with  favor- 
itism to  none.  But  so  long  as  men  are  born  in 
different  places,  with  differing  faces  and  differing 
physical  and  mental  advantages,  even  equality  of 


LET  INDUSTRY  BE  FREE  263 

opportunity  will  not  really  equalize  matters.  But 
taking  it  for  granted  that  equality  of  opportunity 
is  to  be  looked  upon  as  one  of  the  fundamentals  of 
progressive  civilization,  what  an  astounding  way 
society,  at  the  present  day,  has  of  putting  this 
ideal  into  practical  form  and  of  manifesting  its 
"wise  human  action." 

For  example,  the  County  Court  of  Jackson 
County,  Missouri,  has  oflBcially  declared  that  only 
union  labor  shall  be  employed  in  doing  county 
work,  and  the  ruling  goes  to  the  extent  of  pre- 
scribing that  the  union  label  shall  be  on  all  county 
printing.  This  means  much  more  than  appears  on 
the  surface;  it  means  that  thousands  of  men  who 
do  not  belong  to  organized  labor  must  be  denied 
any  employment  furnished  by  the  county;  it 
means  that  many  firms,  with  possibly  millions  of 
dollars  in  the  aggregate  invested,  must  be  barred 
from  all  participation  in  the  profits  of  county 
work  of  all  kinds. 

To  tell  the  truth  it  is  not  only  in  the  West 
where  this  kind  of  equality  of  opportunity  is 
openly  advocated.  Only  a  few  weeks  ago  the  fol- 
lowing news  item  was  printed  in  a  Waltham 
newspaper:  "Through  a  committee  of  two  of  its 
members.  Local  328  of  the  Coal  Drivers'  union, 
which  includes  drivers  employed  by  coal  dealers 
in  Waltham,  Newton  and  Watertown,  has  lodged 
a  protest  with  Mayor  Duane  against  the  hand- 


264    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

ling  of  coal  for  use  in  municipal  buildings  by  non- 
union men." 

But  the  enslavement  of  labor  to  the  will  of  the 
Unions  is  not  confined  to  the  efforts  of  a  county 
court  in  Missouri.  An  article  printed  some  time 
ago  in  the  "Ohio  Journal  of  Commerce"  throws 
much  light  on  the  subject  from  a  wider  point  of 
view.  The  article,  in  part,  is  as  follows: — 

"The  Town  Booster  par  excellence  is  a  member 
of  this  78th  General  Assembly  of  Ohio.  His  name 
is  Smith,  christened  William  Theodore.  He  is  a 
democrat  and  he  hails  from  Marion,  Ohio.  Smith 
is  the  author  of  a  bill  to  open  the  doors  of  oppor- 
tunity to  young  men  whose  parents  are  unable 
to  give  them  an  education  fitting  them  for  a  pro- 
fession. Here's  the  whole  bill,  told  in  its  first 
paragraph :  — 

"'It  shall  be  unlawful  for  any  person  or  com- 
bination of  persons  to  prevent,  attempt  to  pre- 
vent, or  combine  to  prevent,  any  apprentices  from 
learning  useful  trades  or  restricting  the  number 
thereof  who  can  learn  such  trades,  or  in  any 
way  interfering  with  their  employment  as  such 
apprentices.' 

"The  bill  was  on  hearing  before  the  committee 
and  the  representation  of  union  labor  men  was 
one  of  the  largest  ever  seen  in  the  General  Assem- 
bly. Labor  put  its  best  speakers  to  the  fore.  They 
assailed  the  bill  bitterly,  its  author  as  well,  and 


LET  INDUSTRY  BE  FREE  265 

the  town  he  represented.  They  insisted  on  the 
right  of  union  labor  to  dictate  to  employers  when 
they  should  employ  apprentices  and  how  many; 
its  author's  purpose  was  to  fry  fat  for  corpora- 
tions, they  said;  his  home  town  of  Marion,  they 
asserted,  was  notorious  all  over  the  world  for  its 
poor  mechanics  and  its  inferior  manufactured 
products.  Smith  sat  silent  under  the  imputations 
cast  upon  his  motives,  but  when  the  labor 
speakers  jumped  on  his  town  he  blew  up. 

"'Come  up  to  my  town  of  Marion,' he  shouted, 
'and  I'll  show  you  a  town  that  has  n't  a  tender- 
loin. I'll  show  you  a  town  that  has  n't  a  single 
tough  street.  I  '11  show  you  a  town  that  has  more 
workmen  who  own  their  own  homes  than  any  of 
its  size  in  the  world  —  and  it  is  not  a  union  labor 
town.  I'll  show  you  a  town  that  has  more  paving 
and  more  stone  sidewalks  than  any  of  you  ever 
heard  of. 

" '  Come  up  to  my  town  of  Marion  and  I  '11  show 
you  the  Susquehanna  Silk  Mills,  worth  over  a 
million  dollars,  and  its  more  than  four  hundred 
employes  weaving  the  fabrics  seen  on  feminine 
backs  wherever  silk  is  worn.  I'll  show  you  the 
Huber  Company,  with  its  eight  hundred  work- 
men, producing  threshers,  traction  engines,  and 
separators  that  win  the  award  of  merit  wherever 
they  compete.  I'll  show  you  the  Marion  Steam 
Shovel  Company,  with  its  two  thousand  men. 


266    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

soon  to  be  increased  to  two  thousand  five  hundred, 
manufacturing  steam  shovels,  log  loaders  and 
dredges;  the  company  whose  product  you'll  now 
find  on  the  Panama  Canal,  bought  by  the  United 
States  Government  at  a  higher  price  than  any 
other  shovel  or  dredge-making  company  dared  ask. 

'"Come  up  to  my  town  of  Marion  and  tell  the 
workmen  there  that  they  are  the  poorest  workmen 
and  produce  the  poorest  goods  and  they'll  show 
you  a  better  town  to  live  in,  a  better  town  to  do 
business  in,  and  a  better  town  to  die  in  than  you 
in  your  egotism  and  ignorance  ever  dreamed  of. 
Furthermore,  I  '11  show  you  a  town  where  we  don't 
say  to  the  young  man,  "You  cannot  learn  a  trade 
because  some  day  you  may  crowd  me  out  of  my 
job  " ;  where  we  don't  say  to  the  young  man,  "  You 
shall  not  be  permitted  to  be  a  machinist,  a  car- 
penter, a  bricklayer,  a  metal  polisher,  a  moulder  "; 
where  we  don't  say  to  the  young  man,  "  Go  dig  a 
ditch  or  get  a  job  driving  a  hack."  In  a  word  I'll 
show  you  a  community  of  industry,  of  intelli- 
gence, of  morality. 

" '  Come  up  to  my  town  of  Marion  and  I  '11  show 
you  a  town  where  we  try  to  live  decently  and  hon- 
estly, and  where  we  are  not  afraid  to  let  others  try 
to  live  as  well.  I'll  show  you  a  town  where  we 
have  opportunity  —  where  we  make  opportunity 
—  a  town  where  we  are  not  so  selfish  or  so  bigoted 
that  we  would  deny  opportunity  to  others.'" 


LET  INDUSTRY  BE  FREE  267 

n 

Some  time  ago,  addressing  an  audience  in  Bos- 
ton, Ex-president  Eliot  of  Harvard  University 
made  the  following  statement:  "The  trade- 
unions  take  a  strong  hand  in  reducing  the  personal 
independence  and  practical  liberty  of  the  journey- 
men in  their  respective  trades.  Of  one  thing, 
however,  we  may  be  assured,  namely,  that  indus- 
trial freedom  will  not  be  promoted  by  measures 
which  diminish  personal  self-reliance,  voluntary 
industry  and  ambition,  and  earnestness  in  work. 
Whatever  deprives  a  man  of  a  personal,  individual 
motive  for  self-improvement  and  robust  exertion 
will  not  make  him  freer,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
more  servile,  and,  in  the  long  run,  less  intelligent, 
industrious  and  free,  for  freedom  is  a  matter  of 
character  and  will  power.  Does  not  American 
experience  in  the  nineteenth  century  go  to  show 
that  political  freedom  is  of  limited  value  unless  it 
is  accompanied  by  genuine  social  and  industrial 
freedom,  and  that  social  and  industrial  freedom 
are  essential  to  the  maintenance  of  every  other 
kind  of  desirable  freedom?" 

The  strike  of  the  shopmen  on  the  Harriman 
Lines  some  time  ago  threw  into  clear  relief  the 
nature  and  extent  of  the  industrial  anarchy  with 
which  the  nation  is  now  threatened.  Behind  the 
federation   of  these  shopmen   were  certain   de- 


268    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDI\^DUALIST 

mands,  such  as  increase  in  pay  and  reduction  in 
hours  of  work.  But  apart  from  such  natural  and 
reasonable  demands  there  were  others  of  a  much 
more  questionable  nature,  such  as  the  "closed 
shop,"  the  abolition  of  the  requirements  of  physi- 
cal examinations,  and  the  furnishing  of  personal 
records  of  candidates  for  employment.  By  these 
methods  only,  of  course,  can  the  fitness  of  candi- 
dates for  employment  be  judged.  These  reason- 
able restrictions  have  been  vetoed  by  the  Feder- 
ation of  Shopmen.  A  gigantic  combination  of  this 
nature,  unregulated  and  unchecked,  manifestly 
endangers  the  eflBciency  and  safety  of  the  entire 
railroad  service,  as  well  as  the  business  interests  of 
the  people  as  a  whole.  So  the  question  naturally 
arises  as  to  who  is  going  to  regulate  and  restrain 
confederations  of  this  nature  in  the  same  way  that 
capital  and  the  interests  of  capital  are  being  regu- 
lated. Managers  of  railroads  and  those  who  are 
responsible  to  the  public  for  efficiency  and  safety 
in  operation  are  sorely  puzzled  nowadays  in  trying 
to  keep  their  heads  above  water.  In  July  of  the 
present  year,  W.  L.  Park,  Vice-president  and 
General  Manager  of  the  Illinois  Central  Railroad, 
in  a  public  discussion  of  these  matters,  spoke 
frankly  of  the  serious  way  in  which  the  railways 
were  hampered,  and  their  efficiency  reduced,  by 
the  unreasonable  attitude  of  the  labor  organiza- 
tions which  are  struggling  under  the  yokes  of 


LET  INDUSTRY  BE  FREE  269 

ignorant  and  corrupt  leadership.  There  has  been 
too  much  managerial  caution  in  this  country  for  the 
good  of  the  railways.  When  organized  labor  at- 
tempts to  dictate  who  shall  be  employed,  regard- 
less of  capability,  and  who  shall  be  foremen, 
regardless  of  all  qualifications  other  than  seniority 
or  unionism,  it  is  digging  a  pitfall  into  which  it, 
or  the  employers,  must  eventually  disappear. 
When  these  organizations  begin  to  realize  that 
they  are  to  man  the  railways  and  that  managers 
must  be  left  to  manage  them,  they  can  begin  to 
really  better  their  condition.  No  business  can 
prosper  saturated  with  disloyalty  and  steeped  in 
incompetency  and  bred  by  labor-restricting  fana- 
tics. The  time  is  opportune  to  improve  condi- 
tions. The  men  are  sick  of  the  mistakes  of  their 
leaders  and  are  ready  to  do  business  on  business 
principles.  Labor  will  find  no  great  difficulty  in 
reaching  common  ground  with  the  railways  and  in 
restoring  harmonious  relations  everywhere,  if  it 
is  disposed  to  apply  the  Golden  Rule  literally  to 
its  efforts. 

But  this  kind  of  industrial  anarchy  is  by  no 
means  confined  to  the  railroads.  The  labor  of 
convicts,  and  prison  life  in  general  as  it  is  affected 
by  these  labor  problems  is  another  illustration  in 
point.  In  prisons  as  elsewhere,  "Let  Labor  be 
Free"  is  the  slogan  of  the  individualist. 

Some  time  ago  I  paid  a  visit  to  the  county  jail 


270    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

at  Salem,  Massachusetts.  The  situation  in  these 
county  jails  at  the  present  day,  from  the  indus- 
trial standpoint,  is  most  instructive.  So  far  as  the 
labor  of  convicts  is  concerned  it  serves  as  an  ob- 
ject lesson  for  the  whole  country.  We  are  in- 
formed in  the  Prison  Commissioners'  Report,  that 
at  the  end  of  the  year  1910  there  were  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty-two  men  and  seven  women  in 
custody  in  this  institution,  and  that  during  the 
year  the  work  had  been  limited  in  amount,  and, 
despite  the  best  efforts  of  the  master,  it  has  not 
been  possible  to  secure  more  of  it.  In  this,  as  in 
nearly  all  county  jails  since  the  restrictions  were 
put  upon  prison  labor,  it  has  been  impossible  to 
furnish  employment  for  all  the  able-bodied  pris- 
oners, and  many  of  them  go  idle.  There  has  been 
no  change  in  the  situation  since  this  report  was 
written.  On  the  occasion  of  my  visit  to  the  Salem 
House  of  Correction  I  found  perhaps  thirty  of  the 
inmates  at  work  in  a  chair  shop,  and  a  few  en- 
gaged in  domestic  services.  The  cells  were  fairly 
clean,  and  the  food  was  solid  and  wholesome  — 
pork,  beans  and  heavy  stews  —  a  diet  such  as 
men  should  be  provided  with  who  are  vigorously 
and  regularly  engaged  in  hard  work.  I  passed 
along  the  rows  of  cells  and  looked  in.  I  saw  quite 
a  number  of  men  locked  in  these  cells  on  a  broiling 
hot  midsummer  day,  loafing  and  lounging,  and 
lying  outstretched  on  the  cots.  Posted  up  on  the 


LET  INDUSTRY  BE  FREE  271 

walls  in  the  corridor  were  some  of  the  prison  regu- 
lations, one  of  which  was  to  the  effect  that  when 
the  inmates  were  not  at  work  they  were  to  remain 
locked  in  their  cells.  Thereupon,  at  intervals,  I  put 
a  number  of  questions  to  the  prison  official  who 
accompanied  me.  I  said  to  him,  "How  and  where 
do  these  men  get  exercise,  air,  sunshine,  and  men- 
tal and  physical  employment  enough  to  keep 
them  from  going  mad?"  He  replied  that  it  was 
impossible,  with  the  facilities  at  hand  in  that  jail, 
to  provide  these  essentials  to  decent  living.  He 
confessed  there  was  neither  yard  room  outside, 
nor  hall  room  inside,  available  for  exercise  of  any 
description,  and  as  for  the  labor  conditions,  people 
outside  the  jail  walls  were  responsible  for  that. 
To  tell  the  truth,  he  said  such  work  as  there  was, 
was  done  at  a  loafing  pace,  for  fairly  brisk  work  to- 
day would  mean  a  general  loaf  to-morrow.  "Well, 
if  these  men  cannot  be  provided  with  work,  I 
suppose  they  are  permitted  to  read.  Have  they 
any  reading  matter  to  occupy  their  minds  .'^"  I 
enquired.  "No,"  he  replied.  "Some  time  ago  the 
library  was  destroyed  by  fire,  and  no  effort  has 
been  made  to  replace  it."  "Are  they  permitted  to 
read  newspapers?"  "Yes,  on  Sunday,  if  they  can 
pay  for  them."  "How  many  of  these  inmates 
have  any  money  in  their  pockets  when  they  come 
here?"  was  my  next  question.  "About  twenty 
per  cent,"  was  the  answer.  That  is  to  say,  eighty 


272    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

per  cent  of  the  inmates  never  see  a  paper  or  a 
book,  although  they  remain  in  the  jail  anywhere 
from  three  months  to  three  years.  It  may  well  be 
asked  what  effect  will  three  years  of  this  kind  of 
treatment  have  on  an  average  human  being. 

Next  I  looked  over  a  railing  to  the  right  of  a  row 
of  cells  and  gazed  down  into  a  sort  of  cock-pit. 
Some  half  dozen  human  beings,  stark  naked,  were 
disporting  themselves  like  cattle  and  squirting 
water  and  daubing  soap  over  each  other.  The 
attendant  said  that  was  the  best  way  to  wash  he 
could  think  of,  under  the  circumstances. 

Turning  again  to  the  cells,  we  noticed  a  man 
outstretched  on  one  of  the  cots,  with  one  of  his 
feet  on  the  bed  clothes.  The  turnkey  motioned  to 
him,  and  the  man  quickly  dropped  his  foot  on  the 
floor.  At  the  same  time  there  were  other  cells  in 
which  the  inmates  were  imprisoned  on  that  blis- 
tering hot  day.  They  were  pacing  up  and  down  — 
two  or  three  steps  was  the  limit,  and  visitors  are 
permitted  to  stare  at  them  through  the  bars  just 
as  people  do  at  wild  animals  in  a  menagerie. 

I  asked  the  jailer  what  the  penalty  was  for 
refusing  to  obey,  or  for  being  stubborn  in  obeying 
these  rules.  He  replied,  "Twenty-four  hours  in 
the  solitary  on  bread  and  water;  if  that  is  not 
sufficient,  then  a  term  of  ten  days  of  the  same 
treatment;  if  additional  'correction'  is  necessary, 
we  then  take  him  out,  give  him  a  good  square 


LET  INDUSTRY  BE  FREE  273 

meal,  and  put  him  back  again  for  ten  more." 
That,  he  said,  was  the  hmit,  according  to  the 
rules.  Naturally  one  would  like  to  know  what 
happens  to  these  unfortunates  when  their  terms 
expire.  I  was  informed  they  were  provided  with 
clean  clothes,  presented  with  a  dollar  in  money, 
and  transportation  to  a  neighboring  city.  "What 
is  the  use  of  coddling  them  in  this  way ! "  said  the 
Salem  jailer  to  me.  "Clean  clothes,  one  dollar, 
and  transportation  to  Lynn,  and  inside  of  a  week 
most  of  them  are  back  again." 

Without  any  reference  to  the  other  features  in 
the  situation,  it  can  safely  be  said  that  the  in- 
mates of  these  prisons  are  condemned  to  idleness 
and  are  kept  locked  in  those  cells  in  stifling 
weather  to  please  organized  labor,  and  their 
friends  the  politicians. 

This,  then,  is  a  picture  of  prison  conditions  in 
the  county  jails  in  Massachusetts,  but  it  is  by  no 
means  a  typical  story  of  the  situation  as  a  whole. 
American  public  opinion,  I  am  well  aware,  has 
taken  hold  of  this  matter  and  is  working  it  out 
along  lines  of  humanity  and  social  justice,  I  re- 
ceived a  very  good  idea  of  what  this  policy  and 
these  methods  are,  and  are  to  be,  from  visits 
which  I  also  made  to  the  State  Prison  in  Charles- 
town,  and  to  the  Reformatory  at  Concord.  No 
one  can  converse  for  five  minutes  with  the  war- 
dens of  these  institutions  without  being  impressed 


274    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

with  the  remarkable  social  and  industrial  labors  in 
which  they  are  engaged.  The  splendid  work  of 
these  men,  it  is  true,  is  only  a  reflection  of  up-to- 
date  American  sentiment  and  of  the  modern  un- 
derstanding of  the  term  criminality.  But  these 
wardens  are  handicapped  in  their  good  work  by 
the  politicians  who  are  at  the  beck  and  call  of 
organized  labor.  American  public  opinion  should 
now  demand  that  industrial  justice  shall  be 
meted  out  alike  to  the  convict  and  to  the  free 
man.  What  right  has  free  labor,  or  free  legisla- 
tures, or  organized  labor,  for  that  matter,  to 
impose  restrictions  of  any  kind  upon  prison  labor? 
We  are  told  that  prison  labor  should  not  be  per- 
mitted to  compete  with  free  labor.  The  idea  is 
absurd  and  illogical  on  its  face.  A  labor  unit  in 
Roxbury,  for  example,  moves  to  Lynn,  and  not  a 
word  is  said  about  it,  but  if  he  happens  to  move  to 
a  particular  indoor  spot  in  Charlestown,  and  is 
put  to  work  at  his  trade,  the  discovery  is  at  once 
made  that  he  is  competing  unfairly  with  the  trade 
outside.  While  proper  regulation  of  the  price  at 
which  prison  goods  are  put  on  the  market  is  a 
most  reasonable  proceeding,  the  liberty  and  right 
of  prison  officials  to  install  machinery  and  to  put 
the  convicts  to  work  at  trades  best  suited  to  their 
moral  and  physical  betterment  should,  I  think,  be 
recognized  by  all  fair-minded  people.  In  other 
words,  let  prison  labor  be  free.. 


LET  INDUSTRY  BE  FREE  275 

The  recent  strike  of  the  minority  of  the  em- 
ployes of  the  Boston  Elevated  Railroad  Com- 
pany, is  another  illustration  of  the  power  and 
methods  of  the  labor  unions  in  dealing  with  indi- 
vidual freedom  in  industry.  On  the  eve  of  city 
and  state  elections  an  alliance  between  the  poli- 
tician and  organized  labor  was  suflBcient  to  over- 
turn and  destroy  a  system  of  personal  and  respons- 
ible service,  which  has  stood  the  test  of  years, 
and  was  altogether  satisfactory  to  the  commun- 
ity. From  beginning  to  end  the  affair  was  simply 
a  barefaced  scramble  to  secure  the  labor  vote, 
without  the  slightest  regard  to  the  interests  of  the 
service,  or  the  community.  The  principle  has 
now  been  established  in  Massachusetts  that  or- 
ganized labor  be  it  never  so  riotous  has  constitu- 
tional and  civil  rights,  but  that  unorganized  labor, 
be  it  never  so  painstaking  and  loyal,  has  no 
standing  or  weight  in  the  community.  Personal 
self-reliance,  voluntary  industry  and  ambition, 
and  earnestness  in  work,  by  which  alone  indus- 
trial freedom  can  be  secured,  have  been  exchanged 
for  the  right  to  organize.  The  battle  for  efficiency 
of  service  on  the  Boston  Elevated,  as  elsewhere,  is 
now  to  be  fought  out  between  regulated  capital 
and  management  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  un- 
regulated and  irresponsible  labor  unions  on  the 
other.  So  far  as  unorganized  labor  is  concerned 
equality  of  opportunity  to  work  is  now  a  very 
fanciful  dream. 


276    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

m 

Finally  a  general  survey  of  conditions  and  out- 
look from  the  standpoint  of  the  individualist 
seems  to  be  called  for. 

So  far  as  socialism  is  concerned,  it  seems  to  me 
there  is  little  cause  for  anxiety.  The  battle  be- 
tween public  and  private  ownership  of  anything 
or  everything  must  and  will  be  fought  out  in  the 
arena  of  practical  experiment.  The  democratic 
idea  must  welcome  progress  along  these  lines 
regardless  of  distinguishing  names  or  parties. 
With  this  understanding  of  the  evolution  of  de- 
mocracy in  America,  both  the  socialist  and  the 
individualist  may  honestly  devote  themselves, 
heart  and  soul,  to  their  respective  campaigns. 
But  when  we  turn  from  general  ideas  of  govern- 
ment to  the  industrial  situation  in  America  at  the 
present  day,  the  necessity  for  criticism  of  a  more 
specific  nature  is  at  once  apparent. 

As  I  look  at  the  labor  situation,  then,  society  is 
just  now  in  a  precious  pickle.  The  need  of  the 
hour  is  for  right-minded  people  who  understand 
the  situation  to  describe  it  without  political  or 
sentimental  prejudice.  The  alienation  of  the  em- 
ployer from  the  emploj^e,  one  or  two  phases  of 
which  I  have  described  in  a  preceding  chapter, 
has  borne  fruit.  Organized  labor  intentionally, 
and  organized  management  to  a  great  extent. 


LET  INDUSTRY  BE  FREE  277 

perhaps,  by  compulsion,  had  substituted  machin- 
ery for  personality  and  these  machines  are  now 
clashing,  with  results  that  are  known  to  all  men. 
In  describing  the  situation  as  it  should  be  de- 
cribed  it  will  be  necessary  to  use,  as  it  were,  a 
chisel  instead  of  a  pen. 

From  the  point  of  view  of  the  individualist,  then, 
the  tendency  of  modern  industrial  methods  and 
legislation  is  to  reenslave  the  world.  To  a  great 
extent  this  conclusion  is  arrived  at  from  a  study  of 
the  excessive  demands  and  unfair  policies  of  or- 
ganized labor.  The  first  item  in  this  modern 
industrial  programme  is  the  surrender  of  the 
individual  workingman.  He  is  called  upon  to  sink 
his  industrial  personality  and  to  stifle  his  indus- 
trial conscience  in  the  interests  of  his  union  or  his 
class.  This  class  doctrine  is  not  hidden  under  a 
bushel.  It  is  proclaimed  at  every  labor  meeting, 
you  read  it  in  countless  books,  it  is  openly 
preached  on  street  corners  and  in  all  public  places 
of  assembly.  Finally  the  movement  receives  sup- 
port from  an  army  of  well-meaning  reformers,  the 
victims  of  imaginative  sociology,  who  are  next  in 
turn  to  be  doctored  personally  and  professionally 
by  some  of  their  own  theories. 

The  modern  industrial  policy  to  which  I  refer 
says,  in  effect,  "We  propose  to  run  the  earth,  that 
is  to  say,  to  name  our  own  terms,  to  nominate  our 
own  managers,  to  regulate  our  own  wages  and 


278    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

conditions,  to  feed,  clothe,  and  carry  the  masses 
of  the  people  according  to  the  plans  and  standards 
of  the  industrial  commonwealth  which  it  is  our 
purpose  ultimately  to  establish.  We  have  the 
numbers,  the  votes,  the  organization,  the  con- 
centration, in  a  word,  the  federation;  conse- 
quently, in  every  sense  of  the  term,  the  future 
belongs  to  us." 

Beginning  with  the  worker  himself  the  process 
of  enslavement  spreads  outward.  It  overshad- 
ows the  press,  the  pulpit,  and  the  platform.  The 
limitations  it  has  imposed  upon  management  are 
as  glaring  as  they  are  dangerous.  On  the  railroads 
the  problems  of  efficiency  and  safety  must  now 
pass  through  the  sieve  of  industrial  and  political 
expediency.  This  modern  industrial  policy  says  to 
the  common  people,  to  the  great  mass  of  con- 
sumers, "Be  with  us  or  go  hungry";  to  the  trav- 
eler, "Be  with  us  or  walk."  To  the  politician  as 
well  as  to  the  inoffensive  voter  it  offers  an  un- 
questioning alliance  or  the  private  life.  To  the 
ministers  of  the  Gospel  it  presents  the  ultimatum, 
"Consider  our  terms  or  consider  religion  a  dead 
issue."  It  invites  the  educator  to  twist  his  philo- 
sophy and  teaching  in  its  direction,  or  be  publicly 
branded  as  a  mere  academic  or  "intellectual." 
To  employers,  managers,  inventors,  pioneers,  and 
capitalists  it  holds  forth  no  olive  branch  or  alter- 
native. To  all  non-affiliated  industrial  units,  such 


LET  INDUSTRY  BE  FREE  279 

as  these,  it  merely  suggests  a  return  to  the  wood- 
pile. The  majority  of  thinking  people  may  not 
yet  be  ready  to  interpret  the  sounds  and  the  rum- 
bling in  the  distance  in  this  light,  and  many  of 
those  who  have  the  requisite  knowledge  and  in- 
sight are  politically  and  industrially  enslaved  by 
the  difficulties  and  delicacies  of  their  positions. 
Nevertheless,  to  all  doubters  of  the  reality  and 
truth  of  the  picture  I  have  drawn  of  present  con- 
ditions, I  have  but  one  word  of  advice  —  "cir- 
cumspice." 

But  the  flight  of  progress  has  two  wings.  I  ap- 
proach the  subject  again  with  facts  of  the  same 
nature,  but  from  a  wider  philosophical  stand- 
point. In  a  recent  issue  of  the  London  "Daily 
Mail,"  the  noted  novelist,  Mr.  Galsworthy,  in- 
formed his  readers  that,  in  his  opinion,  "democ- 
racy at  present,  not  only  in  England  but  in 
America,  offers  the  spectacle  of  a  man  running 
down  a  road  followed  at  a  more  and  more  respect- 
ful distance  by  his  own  soul."  From  the  literary 
point  of  view  this  is  certainly  a  very  attractive 
statement,  but  it  is  far  from  being  a  correct  diag- 
nosis of  the  situation.  On  the  contrary,  as  it  seems 
to  me,  democracy  in  America  to-day  is  making 
heroic  efforts  to  keep  up  with  its  soul,  and  this 
soul,  in  many  directions,  is  actually  getting  ahead 
of  the  game.  Digestion  and  assimilation  are 
problems  of  the  social  as  well  as  of  the  individual 


280    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

stomach.  In  any  period  of  civilization  an  over- 
dose of  soul  can  anticipate  a  day  of  reckoning, 
just  as  inevitably  as  an  overdose  of  tyranny  or 
corruption. 

Every  once  in  a  while  society  gets  an  unex- 
pected reminder  of  these  facts.  Just  at  present, 
for  example,  ideas  of  humanity  and  of  social  jus- 
tice are  everywhere  clashing  with  authority.  In 
religious  and  educational  matters,  in  the  home 
and  in  the  field  of  industry,  society  is  now  con- 
fronted with  the  all-important  problem  of  reason- 
able and  necessary  discipline.  The  situation,  in  a 
general  way,  owes  its  vitality  to  the  benevolent 
intentions  of  hosts  of  earnest  and  conscientious 
people  who  are  now  determined  to  give  poverty 
an  uplift  and  labor  its  due  share  of  reward.  In 
practical  everyday  operations,  however,  this  kind 
of  moral  enthusiasm,  generous  and  praiseworthy 
as  it  surely  is,  has  some  of  the  dangers  as  well  as 
many  of  the  useful  properties  that  are  associated 
with  steam.  And  unfortunately,  for  the  proper 
control  of  this  all-comprehensive  and  irresistible 
moral  pressure,  civilization  in  America  to-day  is 
in  a  tremendous  hurry.  Under  stress  of  mental 
and  moral  overstrain,  —  and  here  we  have  the 
spectacle  of  the  man  running  down  the  road  try- 
ing to  keep  pace  with  his  soul,  —  there  seems  to 
be  no  time,  no  opportunity  for  the  patient  con- 
sideration of  social  and  industrial  safeguards.  In 


LET  INDUSTRY  BE  FREE  281 

fact,  the  thinking  process  of  Americans  in  general 
is  now  being  managed  by  a  few  specialists  just  as 
scientifically  as  the  laboring  process.  The  men 
who  coin  political  catch-phrases,  introduce  mov- 
ing pictures,  teach  systems  of  industrial  efficiency, 
or  dictate  opinions  and  policies  to  be  followed  by 
millions  of  working  people,  are  all  trying  to  make 
it  easy  to  think  as  well  as  easy  to  work. 

Meantime  society  itself  is  in  a  spendthrift 
mood.  It  is  intoxicated  with  the  wealth  of  mater- 
ial resources  and  moral  opportunities.  Just  at 
present  it  is  supremely  interested  in  the  laboring 
classes.  Every  practical  manifestation  of  this 
public  sympathy,  however,  is  nowadays  quickly 
converted  by  its  recipients  into  terms  of  political 
and  industrial  power,  and  this  power  is  now 
frankly  and  openly  at  odds  with  authority  and 
with  personal  and  property  rights  of  nearly  every 
description. 

Now  I  think  it  will  take  but  a  few  words  to 
convince  open-minded  people  that  the  industrial 
chaos  at  the  present  day,  a  partial  picture  of 
which  I  have  drawn,  contains  within  itself  the 
germs  of  reconciliation  and  cure.  The  labor  union 
to-day  flourishes  and  commits  excesses  by  virtue 
of  power  entrusted  to  it  by  the  spirit  of  humanity, 
which  has  become  the  sign  manual  of  progress  of 
every  description  in  the  twentieth  century.  This 
spirit  of  humanity,  or,  in  other  words,  this  soul  of 


282    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  INDIVIDUALIST 

democracy  which  Mr.  Galsworthy  would  have 
Americans  look  upon  as  a  tail-ender  of  some  kind, 
is  actually  in  alliance  with  every  manifestation  or 
echo  of  righteousness  that  is  able  to  express  itself 
in  any  way  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of 
civilized  society.  The  initial  outburst  of  pent-up 
feeling,  put  in  motion  by  this  alliance,  has  already 
swept  scores  of  social  and  industrial  disgraces 
from  the  map  of  society,  but  in  the  natural  order 
of  things  there  is  wholesale  demoralization  in  the 
chaotic  yet  fundamentally  healthy  situation  that 
remains.  The  next  few  years  in  America  are  to  be 
an  era  of  renaissance.  The  soul  of  democracy  is 
now  beginning  to  take  stock  of  its  handiwork. 
For  one  thing,  it  will,  in  the  near  future,  place 
a  restraining  hand  quietly  but  firmly  on  the 
shoulder  of  organized  labor,  and  in  doing  so  it 
will  give  millions  of  other  toilers  a  greater  measure 
of  social  and  industrial  justice. 

Finally,  the  writer,  whose  life-story  the  reader 
has  been  following  in  these  pages,  has  this  part- 
ing word  to  say  to  his  brother  individualists  — 
everywhere :  — 

Launch  your  vessel, 

And  crowd  your  canvas. 

And,  ere  it  vanishes 

Over  the  margin, 

After  it,  follow  it, 

Follow  the  Gleam! 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Accident  at  Crescent  Avenue 
Station,  South  Boston,  240-44. 

Accidents,  on  American  rail- 
roads in  the  eighties,  113,  133- 
36;  Pagan's  study  of,  194-98; 
causes  of,  226-29,  240-44, 
247-53. 

Alec,  boy  friend  of  Fagan,  10-13. 

Authority,  conservation  of,  157- 
63,  193,  224-29;  ideas  of  hu- 
manity and  social  justice  at 
present  clash  with,  280,  281. 

Axioms,  influence  of,  256. 

Bahia,  Pagan's  sojourn  at,  60, 
61,  65-67. 

Baldwin,  William  H.,  104. 

Bible,  36,  38;  Fagan  introduced 
to,  17;  texts,  28,  33,  34,  44. 

Big  Mike,  180-83. 

Biological  investigations  of  Dar- 
win and  others,  39. 

Boers,  the,  character  and  strug- 
gle for  independence  of,  in  1880, 
82-87. 

Boston,  Pagan's  arrival  in,  101, 
102. 

Boston  Elevated  Railway  Com- 
pany, strike  of  employees  of, 
275. 

Brazil,  Pagan's  sojourn  in,  49- 
67. 


Breakers,  Conductor,  145-48. 

Broadbent,  telegraph  clerk,  Fa- 
gan makes  acquaintance  of, 
34-36;  conversations  of  Fagan 
with,  36-42;  a  social  degener- 
ate, 52-54;  accused  by  Pagan 
of  robbery,  56-58. 

Brooks,  Phillips,  104. 

Brotherhood  of  Locomotive  En- 
gineers, the,  221-24. 

Brown,  Mr.,  minister  of  the  Free 
Kirk,  17,  18. 

Burgers,  President,  of  Transvaal 
Republic,  69. 

Capital,  useful  and  necessary, 
256. 

Carelessness  on  railroads,  135, 
136. 

Catch-phrases,  influence  of,  256, 
261,  262. 

Character,  whether  to  be  consid- 
ered scientific  or  religious,  40, 
41. 

Character-building,  27-31. 

Class  spirit  in  school,  23-25. 

Colenso,  Bishop,  71. 

Concord  Reformatory,  273. 

Conservation  of  authority,  157- 
63,  193,  224-29. 

Correct  living,  problems  of, 
36. 


INDEX 


Dan,  railroad  hand,  153-57,  159, 

160. 
Darwin,  Charles,  38,  39. 
Delvy,    Mr.,    section    foreman, 

151. 
Democracy  of  the  present  day, 

defined  by  Galsworthy  and  by 

Fagan,  279,  280. 
Diamond  Fields  of  South  Africa, 

the,  96-100. 

East  Deerfield,  position  secured 
by  Fagan  at,  105;  Fagan's 
place  of  occupation  at,  106, 
107;  Fagan's  companions  and 
fellow  workers  at,  107-12; 
Fagan's  business  experience  at, 
112-17,  123,  124;  Fagan's 
reading  while  at,  117-23. 

Eliot,  President  C.  W.,  Fagan's 
study  of,  214,  216-19;  quoted 
on  industrial  freedom,  267. 

Enginemen,  railroad,  demands  of, 
221-39. 

Equality  of  opportunity,  261-75. 

Fagan,  J.  O.,  the  family  stock  of, 
from  the  Island  of  Skye,  2; 
progenitors  of,  in  India,  2,  3; 
his  father  a  survivor  of  the  In- 
dian Mutiny,  3;  birth,  3;  early 
home,  3-5;  the  wilderness 
stage  of  his  boyhood,  5-8;  and 
the  adventure  of  the  rabbit- 
warren,  9-15;  the  first  emer- 
gence of  his  personality,  12, 
15;  beginning  of  his  self-asser- 
tion, 16,  17;  his  religious  con- 


dition in  childhood,  17-19,  22; 
at  school  in  Fortrose  academy, 
19-22;  at  school  at  Manchester, 
22-25,  how  he  came  to  leave 
England,  25;  intellectual  and 
religious  condition  of,  at  this 
time,  25;  interview  with  cou- 
sin, 26-28;  his  understanding 
of  the  text  "Keep  yourself  un- 
spotted from  the  world,"  28- 
31;  adventure  at  Lisbon,  29- 
31;   his  condition   on   leaving 
Lisbon,  32-34;  makes  acquain- 
tance with  Broadbent,  34-36; 
first  indications  of  a  definite 
philosophy,  36;  conversations 
of,    with     Broadbent,    36-42; 
benefit    derived    from    Broad- 
bent by,  37-39,  42;  aspect  of 
the   past   to,    42,   43;   studies 
Spanish,  42,  44;  accepts  invi- 
tation of  Spanish  merchant  to 
go  to  Rosario,  43-49;  goes  to 
Santos,  49;  his  sojourn  in  Bra- 
zil,  49-67;   shocked   at  social 
conditions    in    Brazil,    50-55; 
studies  languages,  55,  56,  73; 
has  yellow  fever,  57,  58;  his 
early  experience  of  women,  63, 
64;  incident  at  Bahia,  64-67; 
his  aim  and  intentions  in  going 
to  South  Africa,  68;  conditions 
in  South  Africa  at  time  of  his 
sojourn  in,  68-70;  meets  Rider 
Haggard,  70;  meets  Bishop  Co- 
lenso,  71;  his  attitude  toward 
society,  71,  102;  his  religious 
views  changing,  72;  not  influ- 


INDEX 


287 


enced  by  considerations  of 
material  interests,  72;  his 
initiation  among  scenes  and 
peoples  of  South  Africa,  72- 
95;  his  account  of  a  hunting 
expedition,  77-82;  on  the  Boer 
character,  82-87;  on  the  Kaf- 
firs, 88-93;  his  thoughts  turned 
toward  the  United  States,  94, 
95;  at  the  South  African  Dia- 
mond Fields,  98-100;  leaves 
South  Africa,  100;  value  of  his 
life  in  South  Africa,  101;  ar- 
rives in  Boston,  101,  102;  his 
view  of  people  and  conditions 
in  New  England,  102-4;  se- 
cures position  in  Hancock, 
N.  H.,  and  then  in  East  Deer- 
field,  Mass.,  105;  his  place  of 
occupation  at  East  Deerfield, 
106,  107;  his  companions  and 
fellow  workers  at  East  Deer- 
field,  107-12;  on  railroad  con- 
ditions in  early  eighties,  112- 
17;  the  reading  stage  of  his  life 
and  his  study  of  the  diction- 
ary, 117-23;  his  duties  at  East 
Deerfield,  123,  124;  takes  a  va- 
cation, 124;  accepts  position 
in  interlocking  tower  in  West 
Cambridge,  127;  his  duties  in 
this  position,  128-30,  140-44; 
mind  study  of,  165-69;  his 
literary  efforts,  183-88,  192; 
visits  Samuel  Jones,  Mayor  of 
Toledo,  189-92;  reports  on 
coal  strike  for  the  "Boston 
Journal,"   192-94;  undertakes 


to  study  the  accident  situation 
on  railroads,  194,  195;  his  mar- 
ried life,  196;  his  attempts  to 
excite  individual  interest  in 
subject  of  accidents,  196;  let- 
ter of  Edgar  J.  Rich  to,  197; 
his  "The  Confessions  of  a  Rail- 
road Signalman,"  197,  198; 
his  study  of  the  "Three  Pre- 
sidents," 199-219. 

Fear,  33,  34. 

Field,  F.  A.,   110-12,  114,   119. 

Fillimore,  an  acquaintance  of 
Fagan  in  South  America,  53- 
55. 

Fitzgerald,  Mayor  John  F., 
quoted  on  railroad  accident  at 
South  Boston,  241,  242;  letter 
of,  on  disorderly  conduct  of 
boys,  247,  248. 

Fortrose,  3,  4,  19. 

Galsworthy,  John,  quoted,  279. 

Generalities,  18,  25,  26,  28-31,  33. 

Gold  Fields  of  South  Africa,  the, 
96,  97. 

Graft  on  the  railroads,  146. 

Grand  Trunk  Railroad,  action  of 
the  Brotherhood  of  Locomo- 
tive Engineers  on  entrance  of, 
into  New  England,  223,  224. 

Greek  and  Latin,  value  set  upon, 
by  Fagan,  118,  119. 

Grumpy,  of  South  Africa,  75-77. 

Haggard,  Rider,  70. 
Hancock,  N.  H.,  position  secured 
by  Fagan  at,  105. 


388 


INDEX 


Harkins,   railroad   hand,    153. 
Hartwell,  Mr.,  161-63,  175,  176. 
Henry,  acquaintance  of  Fagan  at 

East  Deerfield,  108,  109. 
Hobbs,  F.  S.,  241. 
Humanity,   prevalent   spirit   of, 

280-82. 

Impressionist,  the,  portraits  of, 

201,  202,  210,  214-16. 
Individualism,    of    the    author's 

boyhood,  6;  the  doctrine  of, 

255. 
Individualist,  the,  and  society,  1. 
Industrial  anarchy,  threatened, 

267-69. 
Industrial  methods,  modem,  the 

tendency  of,  to  reSnslave  the 

worid,  277-79. 
Industry  should  be  free,  255-82. 

Jails,  conditions  in,  269-74. 
Jake,  acquaintance  of  Fagan  at 

East  Deerfield,  109. 
James,  Mr.,  prospector  in  South 

Africa,  96,  97. 
John,  railroad  hand,  152. 
Jones,  Samuel,  189-92. 

Kaffirs,  the,  88-93. 

Kimberiey,  98-100. 

Kruger,  Paul,  69. 

Kruttschnitt,  Mr.,  vice-president 
of  the  Southern  Pacific  Rail- 
road, 196. 

Labor,  movement  to  organize,  in 
the  eighties,  137-40. 


Labor  leaders,  irresponsible 
power  of,  230,  231. 

Labor  situation,  at  present,  276. 

Labor  unions,  the  power  of,  in 
the  railroads,  221-39;  enslave- 
ment of  labor  to  will  of,  263- 
67;  bad  tendencies  of,  267-79; 
flourish  through  power  en- 
trusted to  them  by  prevalent 
spirit  of  humanity,  281. 

Latin,  value  set  upon,  by  Fagan, 
118,  119. 

Lisbon,  29-31. 

Love,  34. 

Lucy,  railroad  hand,  152,  153. 

McTavish,  schoolmaster,  18-21. 
Manchester,  school  at,  22. 
Mat,  railroad  hand,  152. 
Mellen,  President,  Pagan's  study 
of,  199-203,  215. 

New  England  in  the  eighties,  96- 
127. 

"Ohio  Journal  of  Commerce," 
article  in,  quoted,  264-66. 

Oklahoma  and  the  railrc  ads,  258, 
259. 

Opportunity,  equality  of,  261- 
75. 

Overtime  payment,  130-32. 

"Paper,"  the,  134. 

Park,  W.  L.,  268. 

Parks,  Mr.,  conductor.  132,  133. 

Pass,  the,  171. 

Peixoto,  58-62,  93. 


INDEX 


Personal  conduct,  philosophy  of, 
in  its  relation  to  life  in  general, 
36. 

Personal  elements,  elimination  of 
in  working  relationships  in 
America,  170-74. 

Politics  and  railroads,  239-44. 

Prayer,  18,  33. 

Prinsloo,  83-87. 

Prison  life,  as  affected  by  labor 
problems,  269-74. 

Public  opinion,  politically  influ- 
enced, 240,  243. 

Public  utility,  an  overworked 
catch-phrase,  257,  259. 

Railroads,  man's  inhumanity  to 
man  seen  in  conditions  of,  112- 
16;  considered  semi-disreput- 
able business  in  early  eighties, 
114;  men  and  conditions  on, 
128-63;  organization  of  work- 
ers on,  137-40;  switch  tower 
duties  on,  140-44;  workers  on, 
at  West  Cambridge,  144-57; 
graft  on,  146-48;  changes  in, 
in  the  nineties,  169;  the  giving 
way  of  the  personal  relations 
between  employer  and  em- 
ployed on,  170-83;  increase  of 
detail  in  administration  of, 
175-79;  the  riddle  of  the,  220- 
54;  the  storm  centre  of  politi- 
cal and  industrial  activity, 
220;  a  field  for  experiments, 
220,  221;  the  power  of  the  la- 
bor union  in,  221-39;  and  poli- 
tics,  239-44;   track-work   on. 


243-47;  trespassing  on  prop- 
erty of,  247-53;  Federal  own- 
ership of,  may  be  result  of 
present  conditions,  253,  254; 
and  Oklahoma,  258,  259;  in- 
dustrial anarchy  threatened 
in,  267-69. 

"  Railway  Age  Gazette,"  quoted 
on  railway  accidents,  226-29. 

Religion,  what  it  meant  to  Fagan 
as  a  child,  17-19,  22;  Pagan's, 
as  affected  by  the  philosophy 
of  Peixoto,  60;  Pagan's,  chang- 
ing, 72;  Pagan's,  in  the  eighties 
and  at  present,  105;  of  Shake- 
speare, 121-23. 

Responsibility,  avoidance  of,  by 
labor  unions  and  their  leaders, 
230-33. 

Rich,  Edgar  J.,  letter  of,  to  Pa- 
gan, 197. 

Riddle  of  the  Railroads,  the, 
220-54. 

Roosevelt,  Theodore,  on  the  con- 
servation of  authority,  157- 
59;  Pagan's  study  of,  200,  202- 
15;  quoted,  260,  261. 

Rosario,  43-49. 

Russell,  Bull  Run,  95. 

Salem  County  Jail  and  House  of 
Correction,  conditions  in,  269 
73. 

Sampson,  railroad  hand,  153. 

Santos,  Pagan's  sojourn  at,  49-60. 

School  life,  of  Pagan,  19-25. 

Scientific  engineer,  the,  and  sci- 
entific management,  232-39. 


290 


INDEX 


Section  foreman,  the,  243-45. 

Section-hands,  245,  246. 

Seward,  Henry  W.,  240. 

Shakespeare,  William,  Pagan's 
delight  in  and  study  of,  121- 
23,  185,  186. 

Shepstone,  Sir  Theophilus,  69. 

Sixteen-Hour  Law,  the,  172. 

Smith,  E.  A.,  124,  125,  130. 

Social  responsibility,  lack  of,  in 
railroads,  in  early  eighties, 
112-14. 

SociaHsm,  276. 

South  Africa,  Pagan's  aim  and 
intentions  in  going  to,  68;  con- 
ditions in,  at  the  time  of  Pa- 
gan's sojourn  in,  68-70;  Pa- 
gan's initiation  among  scenes 
and  people  of,  72-95;  the  gold 
fields  of,  96,  97;  the  Diamond 
Pields   of,    98-100. 

South  America,  Pagan  prepares 
to  leave  England  for,  25. 

Special  pri\nleges,  259. 

State  Prison  in  Charlestown,  273. 

Stone,  Chief,  of  the  Brotherhood 
of  Locomotive  Engineers,  quot- 
ed, 221,  222. 

Styles,  schoolmaster,  22,  23. 

Superintendent,  railroad,  meth- 
ods and  duties  of,  177. 

Telegraph  service  of  railroads, 
in  the  eighties,  114-17,  130, 
131. 

Texts,  Biblical,  28,  33,  34,  44. 

"The  Tempest,"  Pagan's  study 
of,  123,  185,  186. 


Three  Presidents,  Pagan's  study 

of,  199-219. 
Tower  men,  condition  of,  in  the 

eighties,  128-32,  140-44. 
Tracers,  107. 
Track-walkers,  246. 
Track-workers,  243-47. 
Train-dispatcher,  the,  177. 
Transvaal   Republic,   conditions 

in,  at  time  of  Pagan's  sojourn 

in,  68-70. 
Trespassing  on  railroad  property, 

247-53. 
Turner,  E.  K.,  125-27,  134,  135. 
Tj-pe,  the  word,  108. 

Unions.     See  Labor  unions. 

Water,  the  term  as  applied  to  rail- 
roads or  railroad  stock,  259-61. 

West  Cambridge,  Pagan  accepts 
position  in  interlocking  tower 
at,  127;  Pagan's  duties  in  posi- 
tion at,  128-30,  140-44;  rail- 
road workers  at,  144-57. 

W'ill-power,  increase  of  strength 
of  muscle  due  to,  15,  16. 

Wolseley,  Sir  Garnet,  88,  92. 

Women,  Pagan's  early  exj)erience 
of,  29-31,  63-67. 

Workingmen,  movement  toward 
the  organization  of,  on  the 
railroads,  137-40;  at  West 
Cambridge  on  the  Fitchburg 
Railroad,  144-57.  See  Labor 
unions. 

Yankee,  the,  107-110. 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U    .    S    .   A 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


J  J^ 


JAM 


!RL 


y-JC 


Form  L0-20OT-7,'61(C14a7s'l)44-l 


M 


3   1158  00417  4925 


CT 

F13A2 
1912 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    000  663  537    9 


